AN: Reworked this chapter because I wasn't happy with it. Hope you like it :)
Time; it rules us. It controls every minute decision we make. It is always moving, never slowing. That same constant pace. You can never escape it. We all have a predetermined amount of time set for us at birth. For some, it's not even a day. Others, they live what is considered a whole life until old age takes them. Imagine knowing how much time every person around you has left. I've been able to see the numbers for as long as I can remember. The numbers floating around every single person I've ever laid eyes upon. Constantly counting down towards their inevitable death.
It's hell knowing when everyone will die. Knowing that I can't do anything to change it. I guess I was lucky though, in a way, I knew how long I had left, how long my family had left. I knew when my grandmother was going to pass away. I was thankful for the fact that my parents still had the rest of their lives to live, that they weren't going to die while they were still young.
I used to sit in the park every day after school on my way home, give myself time be alone and think in the silence. I soon started noticing a little girl would come to the park every Wednesday with her mother. She didn't have long left. 2 months. As the time drew nearer, she stopped coming to the park, perhaps she was too ill. A week before her time was set to stop, I saw her at the park once more with her mother. She was in a wheelchair, she looked so small and fragile, but she still smiled just as brightly as she did the first time I saw her. I smiled as I stood and waved at them as I was leaving, the little girl grinned at me, waving back.
I took a chance the next Wednesday and went back to the park again. Maybe the numbers were wrong, maybe the little girl was still alive. As I sat where I always did I saw her mother walk to the swings alone, shoulders slouched, head hung, arms crossed tightly across her chest. She sat on the swing and cried and I just watched. For half an hour I sat and watched this woman grieve her child before I stood and walked in the direction of my home. I glanced behind me once and locked eyes with her, she looked so broken. I nodded, giving her a sad smile, before turning on my heel and leaving. I never saw her again. I stopped going to the park, always taking the long way home just to avoid seeing it.
The look in that mother's eyes haunted my dreams for many weeks after. I started distancing myself from my friends, my family, everyone. I thought that if I had no one to care about, no one to love, no one who loved me, then I'd never have to experience what that mother from the park had. I tried to disconnect myself from the numbers. It made me seem apathetic and callous, which made people keep their distance. The emotions radiating off me made people feel uncomfortable. Who would want to be friends with an 'uncaring' and 'heartless' person like me? I could hear what they all said about me at school, when they thought that I couldn't hear them. I was so lonely, but I didn't mind, I'd never have to feel the pain of losing someone I loved if I had no one.
I didn't feel any kind of change coming on, normally I could tell when something was about to happen. Like I had become attuned to the sense of change in the air, but somehow, I'd missed this one.
It started off like every other day. Get out of bed, get ready for school, my parents sending me worried looks, but never saying anything as I left through the front door, my head hung low to avoid seeing the numbers hovering around them. The same boring routine every day. Get to school just in time and take my seat, nobody sparing a glance at the strange, lonely boy. I felt like I was in a bubble while I was at school, a bubble of invisibility. Even the teachers were put off by my presence and tried to not take any notice of me.
That's when it happened. The change I'd somehow missed. Here was the turning point in the road that was my life and I was approaching it fast with no chance of stopping. Do I crash and burn, or do I finally grab the wheel and take a chance?
He was quite a pale boy, his shiny, onyx hair held great contrast against his alabaster skin. His wide, cerulean eyes flickered around the room, shining with a sense of innocence that seemed out of place on a boy of his age, but also something else, something I couldn't place. He was tall too, almost as tall as I was, maybe an inch shorter. It wasn't the fact that he was positively the most gorgeous person I've ever seen that shocked me when we locked eyes, no, it was the fact that his numbers where exactly the same as mine, down to the very last second. I'd never seen two people with the same time, ever, and I'd seen so many numbers. I'd know, I'd remember if two were the same. Sure, I'd seen some a few minutes apart, even a few seconds apart, in rare cases where there was some kind of accident, but never exactly the same.
I blinked and shook my head when I realised that I was still staring at him, he smirked at me and raised an eyebrow, which caused me to blush fiercely as I quickly looked down at my hands, concentrating on picking at my bitten away fingernails. I heard the teacher introducing the odd new boy to the class but I wasn't paying enough attention, too focused on my own embarrassment, until I heard the seat beside me being pulled out. I nearly slapped myself, of course he'd have to sit next to me, it was the only available seat in the class. I chanced a quick peak at him, he was grinning at me, his black fringe falling slightly across his right eye. I looked ahead siting up straighter in my seat, blushing once again.
I heard him shuffling in his seat and looked over at him one more, before I could stop myself. He was setting up his things, giving me some time to actually look at his face. His eyes where so wonderful, much more so up close, from a distance they had just seemed blue, but now I could see the kaleidoscope of colours in his eyes. He didn't blink very often, and considering his eyes were so wide open, it made his face seem younger. His high cheekbones framed under his eyes nicely, and it was an odd thing to say, but he had really nice eyebrows. His hair looked so feathery soft, I was resisting the urge to reach over and brush it from his eye. I was trying to take in every little detail of his face and then there I was, staring again. His giggle brought me back to my senses.
"Oh, uh, sorry..." I mumbled, looking away from him, my face heating up. He laughed quietly.
"It's okay, really." He whispered back, leaning in slightly towards me. He had quite a deep voice and a Northern accent which made my heart jump in my chest.
"I'm Phil by the way, in case you didn't hear." He said, introducing himself.
"Dan." I muttered in response, turning to look at him.
He was smiling at me, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling while they sparkled in the light, he was beautiful, and I was doomed.