Chapter Text
The sound of never-ending ticking jolts me awake. I'd like to think that's what alarm clocks were for, but mine seems to be unemployed.
Yawning, I swing my legs over the bed and stand up, grabbing that dingy old pocket watch that always ticks backward. It's weird, but I haven't tried to fix it. It would take a really long time, and I would rather not waste my time on this junk. I've stopped asking myself why it does that. Probably shouldn't have, but maybe it's just...you know, not my business?
It belonged to my grandpapi, and I have no clue how he put up with it. Could he even tell the time properly?
My thoughts are rudely interrupted by the smell of my mom making breakfast downstairs.
...actually, it's not rude. I was hungry, and I don't know if she knew that. But if she did, she's got magical telepathy. If only I had that.
I could've used it to say the right answer in Algebra the other day, and maybe I wouldn't have been laughed at.
Nick's already in the shower, probably taking up all the hot water, so I might as well be prepared to take a cold shower for the second time this week.
So I just walk downstairs, almost missing one, which is one of the things that make you go ‘this is the end’. "Hey mom," I say, running my hands through my messy brown hair.
My voice sounds all raspy and weird, like I haven’t talked in two months.
...But she doesn't say anything about it. "Morning, Raine," She replies, flipping a pancake. "Breakfast is almost ready."
I look at the pocket watch again. Maybe I should try fixing it...it's really getting on my nerves.
"Thinking about that watch again?" Mom asks, not looking up from the pan.
I nod, though she can't see me.
"Well, you might as well try fixing it—you can't complain about it if you're not gonna do anything to fix it," She says as she flips another pancake.
"Uh...do you have a screwdriver, maybe?" I ask.
"That's not necessary," she says, looking up. "Just twist that little button on the top."
I'm not sure how it's supposed to work—but I take the button between two fingers, and twist it anyway.
And my mom suddenly starts moving weird...like she's...
What the hell is going on?!
And she then says:
"That's not necessary," she says, looking up from her pan again. "Just twist that little button on the top."
"But...you already said that." I say hesitantly.
"No I didn't," She replies. "Did you want syrup or fruit on your pancakes?"
Seriously, am I dreaming?
I pinch myself just to make sure, but it hurts. The sting jolts up my shoulder.
Nope...not a dream.
I think I’ll just…not try anything. With this watch. It ticks weird, and my mom’s acting weird now, like…like…
…like the last ten seconds didn’t just happen.
Holy—
And why does my head suddenly hurt…?
Oh well, it’s probably nothing. I’ll just take some ibuprofen before I leave for school.