Time is extremely abstract and once you get to know, truly, the power of it, your perception of life changes. I once read somewhere that only humans know time. Yeah, sure, animals knew time in the sense of night and day, winter and spring, but not really the way humans see time. And since we are the only creatures on this planet aware of its actual significance and magnitude, only we can have the fear of time.
The fear of time running out.
My name is Jeff Sterling, and I have short term memory loss.
It was by noon when the baby blue softness of the sky turns to streaks of grey, clustered clouds suspending in the dull air. Jeff pretends not to notice the change in weather and opts to concentrate on the soccer game in front of his eyes.
"Go Starlings!" cries Sebastian, grabbing Jeff's hand shaking it enthusiastically as their soccer team scores their fifth goal in 30 minutes. His interest has long gone at some point of the game and he starts to worry about the dust which began collecting in his disheveled hair. He doesn't remember exactly when it had become unstyled, but it must have been the time Sebastian started shaking and hugging him out of exhilaration.
He watches a boy with unruly dark curls scream in annoyance at another boy with a larger build, pointing to the goal behind him and jabbing towards it with anger. The bigger boy merely shrugs and seems unfazed, saying something around the lines of 'It's just a game'. And that's when the chaos begins.
Jeff watches with glazed eyes as the boy with dark curls lunges for the other and starts punching him, quick and efficiently. His height might have been a disadvantage, but he manages to get a good few punches in which made the receiving end reel back in surprise. Before it could get any messier, Jeff watches an older man intervene between them with tired but angry eyes.
Jeff turns to look away from the scene and suddenly feels his heart hammer unhealthily. Something about fights always made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Hey, are you okay? You're getting a bit pale." Kurt says worriedly, extending his hand towards Jeff and slowly guides him out the field, leaving Sebastian who was overlooking the fight with strange interest. Jeff nods blindly but follows Kurt to lead him out of the field.
"I don't like fights." Jeff whispers. Kurt looks towards Jeff's clammy face and purses his lips knowingly, "I know, you told me before. You shouldn't have come."
"I did?" Jeff croaks, attempting to wipe away the sweat dribbling down the side of his face.
"Yeah, but you probably won't remember. I should bring you to the clinic; your hands are beginning to sweat."
"I-I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Kurt says almost automatically and knocks on the door of the clinic, peering in and asking for the nurse while Jeff stares at the dusty windows. The light had seeped out of the skies and everything looked grimmer than he felt.
"Go in." Kurt offers a tight smile and guides Jeff in with much care. Like he had experience with nursing. Or maybe only nursing Jeff. His condition contributed a lot to that and sometimes he wonders why people still bring along avoidable burdens.
After he was given time to rest on the bed and some pills to help ease his panic and calm him down, he was finally able to get back to his apartment. He doesn't want to stay longer in the Clinic than he has to. In one hand, he feels good being in a Clinic because it gives him comfort that if anything were to happen to him, trained doctors would be on his side almost immediately. But in another, it would remind him of illness, and sickness always blackens the heart in more ways than one.
His brain short circuits for a moment as he sees a sighing figure escape from the darkened corners of the school. His white, pressed shirt was blood stained but much thought wasn't given to it as he fixed the cuffs of his shirt. Jeff watches with a freezed conscience as the man he had seen on the soccer field, abruptly looks up to offer a friendly smile towards him before moving on to wherever he was trying to get to.
Jeff's eyes trailed him as his feet still stayed planted on the cold marble floor, wondering when his brain would function normally again. Blood just wasn't a pretty sight to him.
"Jeff!" Sebastian says, surprised, instantly reaching up to cover his bloodied nose. The voice broke his state and he feels his toes regain its warmth. "So much blood today." Jeff comments, eyes slightly looking away from his friend.
"I'm sorry," Sebastian chuckles through his fingers, "I couldn't help but see the fight up close and the annoyed big guy punched me. It's so stupid though, like I could've punched him back since he's still shorter than me but their supervisor caught my fist before anything could've really happened. Shame."
Sebastian shrugs and pats Jeff with his free hand, making his way to the nurse's office behind. He feels the door open again behind him and the cold sterile smell makes invades his senses briefly. Jeff looks down in his hands and though he knows they weren't injured, he can't help but think they looked damaged somehow. He feared how he can suddenly see the blood cells in his pale hands and how they became clearer and made the color grow more vibrant and murderous. Before thinking about it too much, Jeff brings his hands down and shudders.
He looks towards the exit door and then to the stairs leading up to the dormitories. Do they deserve an explanation? The better part of him said yes, but the lesser could care less so he goes through the double doors, meeting no one else in the empty parking lot and driving up to the nearest coffee shop.
Apparently he had gotten his driver's ID a few months ago, which was very difficult to get but provided that his mother had connections, it was possible. He checks his mirrors as he pulls up on the coffee shop, the only thing familiar at the moment.
The air surrounding the coffee shop is warm even with Jeff shaking off some last minute doubts into the air. An elderly woman sits by the window sill with a solemn face and a crumbled cookie on her left hand, a young teenage girl fiddles with her phone and sips tea from a mug and two other boys a few years older than him sit by the framed picture of a cup of coffee, but otherwise, the shop was relatively empty. Jeff twists the scarf off his neck as he walks over to the counter area and glances at the menu.
"We're out of coffee." says the man behind the counter.
"That's alright," Jeff clears his throat as he settles on an order, "I'll take some tea."
"With milk?" the man asks, flicking his pink hair from covering his thick framed glasses. Jeff nods and reaches down to his uniform slacks to pull out his wallet. The man rings the cash register and takes Jeff's 10 and gives back a 7.
The drink is warm in his hands and he rushes to an empty seat to set it down. He watches the smoke rise from the liquid and disperse into the air for a while until he decides it's no use staring at things and hoping that it would be drinkable. Instead he opens his satchel and begins to flip through a photo book.
The first picture he sees are of his family and then other people in his life which he's memorized in the back of his mind. It goes from blood and starts to trickle down to school. He remembers a few faces of course, Kurt's, Trent's, Danny's, they had all been in his first year at Dalton. But the rest were woefully unfamiliar and only some that were significant enough were hung up in his apartment. He scans over and he sees a picture of Sebastian, taken from his polaroid camera. It's a picture of him looking at the lens of a camera he doesn't remember clicking to frame his face. He was a friend he met at the second term and a huge fan of sports but so much as to play them often.
He flips the page and sees his nervous neighbor's face framed with dark bangs covering his forehead, smiling sheepishly for his collection. His name was written, but he looked unfamiliar. And there were others. The secretary by the lobby of his apartment was Arie, a 23 year old woman who's struggling in entering a police department. Mr. Anenheim, a friendly lawyer who helps out with his sister's coffee shop. A teacher named Roland Michaels that taught music down the block with his polaroid picture crooked in the plastic and the black ink smudged inside.
But aside from random company, he writes no one else. Sometimes, Jeff decides that not knowing is for the best and lying is as strong as steel for his shield.
His tea has gone cold as he observes all the faces and he quickly drinks it after hearing the cough of clouds above. He has to get back to his apartment.
He drives back safely with a mild migraine tucked in the back of his mind and goes to sleep in the dark hoping that tomorrow he'll remember all those faces.
A/N: Review? :)
Next Chapter Sneak Peak:
"My name is Nick, and I meet you at school sometimes. When time is nice. And yesterday you promised to meet me in the coffee shop across the street at 4 PM. I know you promise things without remembering that you did and you don't know who I am, but yesterday you told me you loved me. And I told you that I loved you. Everything's a mess right now, but hey, at least the tea is warm."
Jeff finds the note on a notepad he doesn't think is even his and he was about to ignore the strange occurrence when he find another note stuck on his refrigerator.
"Just in case. My name is Nick, and I meet you at school sometimes. When time is nice. I know you probably hate me right now or even wondering who the hell I am. But please meet me, there's a lot of people there, don't worry. It'll be less creepy the next time."
Jeff doesn't know what to think but makes breakfast anyway. It's his first day of the second semester and he can't mess it up.