Liquid Time.

Death never seemed so inviting and my heartbeat never quite so strong. The streets were dark, but the allies were darker. Above all else, his voice echoed and bounced off of every wall in my mind, “You will learn. Time should never be tampered with.”

I opened my eyes and the world seemed to change around me. The leaves changed before me like I hit fast-forward. They turned from green, to yellow, to orange, then to brown. The people moved in blurs of colors, forming lines in my vision. I looked to my hands and I have begun to age. I’m out of breath and quickly running out of time.

“Stop! I give up! Please, just take me back!” As quickly as it had begun, it stopped. I was no longer 18 years old. I was 70, but time had stopped, and nothing moved. The leaves didn’t change, and they didn’t sway in the wind. The blurry lines of colors that signify the patterns of movement were frozen in their paths. Time was liquid and I was drowning in it.

“Once time has passed you cannot take it back, My Dear. If I have taught you anything at all, this shall be it.” His voice sounded in my mind like a warning shot at a race. A race to what? Time unfroze and it was clear. 

A race to my death.