Unexpected

Blinking slowly, startled at conscience, Victor opened his eyes and grasped his surroundings with the power of his pupils. Keenly eyeing the soft linen bed he resided on, the fading sunlight from the window, and the empty desk, he figured he must have still been in the medical room. Why was he here? Ah yes. It was the bully Kevin, who had knocked him out in a single fist-blow, red spurts spraying from the sides of Victor’s nose, the glasses jagged into his flesh, a gory depiction of a fountain of cranberry juice. It was horrific. Victor slowly came to the awareness of a soft ticking sound from beside him. Natural, he thought, as there had bound to be a clock next to the medical room bed. One tick. Two tick. Three tick. The clock started ringing. Victor jumped up surprised at the loud sounds, his heart lurching about, the beats suddenly rising, fear crawling up his spine. Slowly, his ears adjusted to the sudden noises, a contrast from the soft, calm rustling of his blanket. The ringing stopped, and Victor’s heart slowly calmed down, the bumbum sounds of his heart gradually coming down to a calm beat again, like the resolution phase in an orchestral music. Victor expected the ticking sounds, but it seemingly didn’t come. His keen sense of hearing couldn’t have failed him! Anxious, he grabbed the clock, shook it about. But it didn’t budge. It had stopped. Five thirty? What!

Victor rushed down the stairs, clambering upon the rails against the staircase in fear that he would trip. He rushed down, checking if the buses were still present. There they were, idle as broken. A lazy bus driver was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth, but no smoke came out. It was unexpected. How could this be happening. Had time stopped?

Victor dashed back up, running across corridors, seeking for a sign of moving life. Yelling in distraught, his voice echoed around the school buildings, bouncing off every single surface, but not a single kind ear heard his pleas.

Leather soles tapping upon the fake marble floors, tap tap tap tap – Victor turned every corner. Through the art room he ran, where he saw a still person, and a person on the other side drawing. Victor attempted to plead with the one who seemed free, but without avail. Only a piercing cold look was returned to Victor, who gave a disgruntled sigh, then ran off, papers fluttering behind him.

Through the carpeted library floor, the endless bookshelves on every direction, mocking and taunting Victor, the muffled sounds of his footsteps repeating like a trill of despair. A single tiny boy sitting on a chair reading a book. He pulled the book away from the child, but even after pulling, the boy simply sat, his eyes fixated forward, his finger as though about to turn a page, like that of Victor’s life. Victor ran. Victor feared. Victor pondered.

What was this? What alternate dimension. As he ran, he heard shuffling behind him. Those he had changed the destiny of during the time freeze. What was happening. He reached a dead end. The humming of the drinks machine was his only hope, and he crouched next to it in hope that it would set him free. The three he had awoken were moving towards him. Step by step. Shuffle by shuffle. A tantalizing reality came over Victor. This was obviously the end. He closed his eyes, gasping a deep breath, then held it in, wondering if he might’ve popped when they claw him down.

It was unexpected. A warm hand patted Victor on the head. “Hey, boy, what’s the matter.” Victor thought he was dead. But no, it was indeed the girl he had awoken in the art studio. Shuddering, he fell back, unwilling to say anything. The artist at the back of the art room trailed the girl yelling, “Come back Emma! I haven’t finished painting yet! I need at least a single still portrait for my coursework you know!”

Victor felt stupid. How could he have thought that time really froze. The driver indeed simply had a toothpick, and the boy was just in shock that he had his book taken away from him from a scary looking senior. Words could not describe the shame that Victor felt that day — the day reality was taken away from him, from his own perception of a potential reality. Or indeed, what is reality?