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Not-Afraid — Time Stood Still
by-nc-nd
Published: 2010-10-27 02:43:57 +0000 UTC; Views: 218; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 0
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Description
He looked at the small, LED- lit clock on the dashboard.9:25.
He had to be home for 9:30.
"What do you want to do after you're done high school?" She asked, pushing the key back and letting the engine rest. She changed her gaze from the steering wheel to him, as he thought about his answer.
"I want to be a battlefield medic," He said. He'd known that for some time now. She had too.
"You told me about that," She said, looking at him with bright eyes.
He nodded his assent. "The better question is, what do you want to do before I have to go home?" He asked, a smile on his face. He hoped her answer would be as he predicted.
"I don't know," She said, returning the smile. "What do you want to do?"
His smile dropped. This was not what he had expected. In all honesty, he didn't know what he wanted to do. With all his heart, he wanted to lean over and embrace her, and lock his lips with hers. But with all his mind, he knew it was a bad idea. "i don't know," he said in a barely audible voice. He swallowed, looking at the clock again.
9:26.
"I don't know," He repeated, attempting a self- mocking smile, "I hate having to make decisions," He stammered. "Especially when there are two answers, and you want both of them, but you know you can only have one... or none at all. Or when you don't want either answer, but you have to choose one..."
"And I hate it," He continued, "When you think you can control a decision, but you know that you have no say in it whatsoever," He finished, thinking of the decision he would have to make tonight, in the next few minutes.
She knew from the change of his mood that something wasn't right. "What's on your mind?" She asked. "Staring at the clock won't make it stop, you know," She added, smirking.
Even so, he gazed at the clock with solemn, unblinking eyes. There wasn't enough time. He would need all the time in the world to tell her what was on his mind. So many things. He never had enough time to tell anyone. He looked up at her, her eyes glinting softly from the light of the clock.
"Everything," He managed. "Everything. So many things. I... there's not enough time."
"Well, there's enough time for one thing. What's wrong?" She inquired, with undue kindness.
His mind raced. Looking back at the clock, he stared for what seemed like an eternity. He thought of all the things wrong, of all the problems... How could he begin? What would he start with? He sat there, staring into the lights of the clock, the rain pounding off the windshield, his body unmoving physically but racing at light speed mentally and emotionally. Where would he start? Where would he begin? Where would he let the water begin to flow, until it began to thunder and roar, an unstoppable force? So many questions. One question led to another. He pondered these questions for what seemed like hours, until the lights of the clock changed.
9:27.
He decided to begin with the problem that had been distracting him since the moment he had climbed into the car with her.
"You."
"Why me?"
"You, my parents, my sports, track and field, hockey, lacrosse... I have to choose one eventually. My brother and sister, they're taking everything so hard these days... My school. I don't know how the hell I'm going to swing University anymore, now that my parents are separated... Money, my music, my writing..." He trailed off, his voice becoming softer and softer, until it was barely a whisper. "All of those things... and so much more..."
He stared at the clock once again.
9:28.
"I don't know how I'm going to handle them all... What I'm going to do..." He said in a low, infinitely melancholy voice. He looked up at her. She was staring into his eyes, her face laid heavy with sympathy and support. She was smiling. Their eyes stayed locked on one another, until finally he broke the trance, looking at the clock for the sixth time.
9:29.
With all the calmness he could muster, he said, "I hate it when decisions really matter. When they don't, it doesn't matter if you make the wrong choice. But... it's never like that in real life."
"Not necessarily," She said in a small voice.
He looked at her, then back to the clock. The lights blinked out, leaving
9:29
Etched in his retinas, and time stood still.
He leaned across his seat and began to kiss her. He wrapped her arms around her and received an embrace in return from her. He was not just kissing her; she was kissing him too. They were kissing each other.
For a few moments, he was lost in the euphoria of the experience. He forgot all of his worries, all of his problems. Then he remembered how she was a problem.
He had let the water begin to flow, and now it was mounting into an unstoppable stream of thrashing rapids. He pulled away from her, breaking the priceless moment they had created.
"I don't know if I should have done that," He whispered, resting his cheek on her forehead.
"Why?" She asked.
"I don't know," He said. And he realized that he didn't know wether he had made the right decisions or not.
They both sat there, the rain pounding off of the windshield. It felt like the whole night had passed before he finally broke the silence.
"I should go now."
She nodded sadly and they sat down in their own seats once again. She started the car and he watched as the clock blinked back on.
9:31.
Time had stood still. For two minutes. One minute past the time he had begged it to stay at.
He hated when he had no say in a decision, a decision made by someone or something he couldn't negotiate with.
She drove him home.
When she pulled into his driveway, he started to exit the car.
"Thanks," He said.
"Wait," she asked, stopping him short. She looked at him with wondering eyes. "Why was I on that list of problems?"
He looked at her with a hole piercing his heart. "Because of tonight," He said solemnly.
She didn't reply.
He opened the door, standing in the rain. "I'm sorry," He told her, before he shut the door.
In all his life, he had never meant it more.
