pleading. The fact that he’s this adamant about going scares me to death. I should say no. My mind is screaming it. Hart wants to leave too bad. That means something bad is out there, or something bad is coming here. Whatever it is, I don’t want to be around it. I have enough bad inside me.
I decide to try something different, something that always worked with Sam. Despite wanting to get some information, I also want to know if he’ll react the same way. If he does, I’ll know it wasn’t all an act. Those two years we spent together. If he doesn’t, well… I’ll know.
Why does it matter? It does. I don’t know why really. Part of me doesn’t want to believe Sam is gone, and if Hart is all I have left of Sam, then I want to hang on to it, no matter what… at least for now.
Slowly, I walk toward Hart and only stop when I’m a few inches from his face. I place my hand on his cheek and gently rub small circles with my thumb close to his ear. Hart does the exact opposite of Sam: he leans closer and shuts his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asks but never opens his eyes. He leans into my hand ever so slightly, and I think that maybe, just maybe, he needs a second to forget everything too.
He’s lost so much, more than me if I want to be honest. Yeah, most of it is his fault but still. To hate his brother so much for over two hundred years that Hart not only turned into a demon, but also kept his humanity--something so painful for a demon to do. Only to find out it was all a lie.
That’s what I feel like this is. All a lie. Some big joke that doesn’t mean anything to anybody, maybe everybody in the world is in on it, but me.
“I don’t know.” And I don’t. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that I need it to stop for a minute. Everything. The lies. The deceit. The world. Everything. Needs. To. Stop.
As I think it, my heartbeat slows into the rhythm of a clock winding down.
Beat.
Beat…
Beat……
Beat………
I can feel it before I can see it: the bend in the room, the way the light shifts around me, how it bends and contorts every solid object in the room. My desk elongates and appears to melt into the floor like a silvery waterfall. The posters on the walls slowly begin to take the same slow ride on the same angle as the desk.
Beat………………
Beat………………………
Time is slowing down. I can feel it. But I’m not. I’m moving the same speed. I lean back and look at Hart, hoping to see that he’s seeing everything like I am too.
Except he isn’t.
He’s slowing down too.
His eyes are shut.
His eyebrows are raising, slowly… slowly… like riding a wave.
He’s thinking, I think. What can he feel? Can he feel the time shift?
I have to think. I have to think. My mind begins racing again as I let Hart go. There is no way I can stand to be there with him now. Not like this. I back all the way to the windowsill and lean my hip against the little edge.
There is no way I actually did this! Myself!
My heart beats faster. I’m terrified that I’ve broken the world. What if it never speeds back up again? I used to hear my mother tell stories about dial-up Internet, which is terrifying in and of itself. They used to have to wait for the computer to dial the telephone company, and it had this ringing tone to it. Brrrrringgggggshosharniaondaneiwand is the sound I think she said it made. Anyway, I can imagine how horrible it must have been to sit there and wait to get on the Internet. Those poor people back then.
I’m worried, now, that I’ve done the exact same thing as the ring tone thing—only to the entire world. I’ve slowed it down. Made it crawl. Bent time.
It’s freakin’ cool!
In a very weird, very wrong sort of way.
If I can bend time and throw overgrown men against walls, what else can I do? I mean, besides destroy the world. There has to be something, right? If I’m so powerful, why do I have to hide like a scared puppy? I have powers.
I decide to try something different, something that always worked with Sam. Despite wanting to get some information, I also want to know if he’ll react the same way. If he does, I’ll know it wasn’t all an act. Those two years we spent together. If he doesn’t, well… I’ll know.
Why does it matter? It does. I don’t know why really. Part of me doesn’t want to believe Sam is gone, and if Hart is all I have left of Sam, then I want to hang on to it, no matter what… at least for now.
Slowly, I walk toward Hart and only stop when I’m a few inches from his face. I place my hand on his cheek and gently rub small circles with my thumb close to his ear. Hart does the exact opposite of Sam: he leans closer and shuts his eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asks but never opens his eyes. He leans into my hand ever so slightly, and I think that maybe, just maybe, he needs a second to forget everything too.
He’s lost so much, more than me if I want to be honest. Yeah, most of it is his fault but still. To hate his brother so much for over two hundred years that Hart not only turned into a demon, but also kept his humanity--something so painful for a demon to do. Only to find out it was all a lie.
That’s what I feel like this is. All a lie. Some big joke that doesn’t mean anything to anybody, maybe everybody in the world is in on it, but me.
“I don’t know.” And I don’t. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that I need it to stop for a minute. Everything. The lies. The deceit. The world. Everything. Needs. To. Stop.
As I think it, my heartbeat slows into the rhythm of a clock winding down.
Beat.
Beat…
Beat……
Beat………
I can feel it before I can see it: the bend in the room, the way the light shifts around me, how it bends and contorts every solid object in the room. My desk elongates and appears to melt into the floor like a silvery waterfall. The posters on the walls slowly begin to take the same slow ride on the same angle as the desk.
Beat………………
Beat………………………
Time is slowing down. I can feel it. But I’m not. I’m moving the same speed. I lean back and look at Hart, hoping to see that he’s seeing everything like I am too.
Except he isn’t.
He’s slowing down too.
His eyes are shut.
His eyebrows are raising, slowly… slowly… like riding a wave.
He’s thinking, I think. What can he feel? Can he feel the time shift?
I have to think. I have to think. My mind begins racing again as I let Hart go. There is no way I can stand to be there with him now. Not like this. I back all the way to the windowsill and lean my hip against the little edge.
There is no way I actually did this! Myself!
My heart beats faster. I’m terrified that I’ve broken the world. What if it never speeds back up again? I used to hear my mother tell stories about dial-up Internet, which is terrifying in and of itself. They used to have to wait for the computer to dial the telephone company, and it had this ringing tone to it. Brrrrringgggggshosharniaondaneiwand is the sound I think she said it made. Anyway, I can imagine how horrible it must have been to sit there and wait to get on the Internet. Those poor people back then.
I’m worried, now, that I’ve done the exact same thing as the ring tone thing—only to the entire world. I’ve slowed it down. Made it crawl. Bent time.
It’s freakin’ cool!
In a very weird, very wrong sort of way.
If I can bend time and throw overgrown men against walls, what else can I do? I mean, besides destroy the world. There has to be something, right? If I’m so powerful, why do I have to hide like a scared puppy? I have powers.
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