CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, I woke up in my bed, unharmed. It felt almost as if last night had been nothing but a vivid nightmare. But the memory of seeing myself—another version of me—trying to kill me was too real to dismiss. It was horrifying, and it reminded me of what the man had said during our brief encounter. Wherever he was now, I hoped he was alive.
He had warned me about Time Drifters Inc., about how they could force someone to turn against themselves. The thought lingered like a bad taste in my mouth. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I tried to make sense of it all. Had it really happened? And if it had, did it mean I had used an illegal time machine? If so… when?
My mind swirled with questions I didn’t have answers to, and I forced myself to push them aside. Dwelling on it wasn’t going to help. I needed a distraction.
Downstairs, I found my dad standing in the kitchen, struggling with the microwave.
"Still trying to figure out how to update it?" I asked, attempting to sound casual.
"No, I know how to update it," he grumbled. "The problem is it won't even turn on. Apparently, there was a town-wide blackout last night, and now nothing's working."
Frustrated, he banged his head on the cabinet above and let loose a string of curses. I slipped outside, hoping some fresh air would clear my head.
The town was alive with confusion. Neighbors stood in clusters, speculating about the blackout while kids ran around, oblivious to the tension. Parents paced with their phones, trying to reach the electrical companies. The atmosphere was strange—like something heavy was hanging in the air, just out of reach.
I decided to check on Chloe. My unease grew with every step toward her house, my mind racing with what-ifs. What if the same thing that happened to me had happened to her?
As I neared her street, a little boy darted into the road, chasing a ball. My stomach dropped when I saw a car barreling toward him, tires screeching out of control. He didn’t notice.
I screamed, but no sound came out. Instead, I was hit with a vision—a vivid flash of the boy’s body being crushed under the car, his small frame twisted and broken, blood and bone scattered across the pavement.
I blinked, and the vision was gone. Panicked, I shouted at the boy to stop. He didn’t listen. The car swerved, and the scene I had just envisioned played out before me, horrifyingly real this time. The boy lay lifeless in the street, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
I clutched my chest, overwhelmed with guilt and helplessness. I reached out a hand, wishing with everything I had that I could undo what just happened.
And then… the impossible happened.
The car reversed. The wheels moved backward over the boy’s mangled body, and his remains began to reform, piece by piece. Time itself rewound, resetting to the moment before the accident.
I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold in reverse. Somehow, I had bent time to my will. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The moment froze as I held the boy in place, time still enough for me to pull him out of harm’s way.
The car sped by, missing him entirely. The boy looked at me with wide, frightened eyes before running off without a word. My heart pounded as I continued toward Chloe’s house, my mind reeling with what I had just done.
When I reached her door, I stopped in my tracks. A loud thud echoed from inside, like something heavy had fallen. I dropped my bag, my pulse quickening.
Fumbling through the bag, I noticed something unusual—a small metal disk I didn’t recognize. But there was no time to investigate. The front door was unlocked.
"Chloe?" I called out as I stepped inside. No answer.
I moved cautiously, my voice trembling as I called her name again. The house felt eerily still, the air thick with dread.
When I entered the living room, I froze.
There she was, lying on the floor. Her lifeless body sprawled across the carpet.
