“CRASH!”, screamed the night sky, startling Tommy out of a deep slumber. The storm had intensified severely in the past few hours. The sky cried gallons and gallons of tears while Thor ranted and raged with fury. Tommy, still half asleep, checked the bright yellow alarm clock beside him.
“3:45am.” he sighed. As he shut his hazel eyes tighter than ever begging his brain to tune off. But no matter how many times he tossed and he turned, no matter how many times he sat up and lay down again, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. The stormy night seemed to fade into a new dawn, and the electric energy of the previous night reduced to mere pitter- patter of raindrops. The chirping of birds along with the rustling trees that danced with the wind added to Tommy’s dismal. The bright, cheery and radiant atmosphere of a new day was equally matched by Tommy’s unwillingness to get out of bed.
“UGHHHHHH SCHOOLL!!!!!!”, the 16-year-old grumbled painstakingly.
The clock now said 6:40, prompting Tommy to pay heed to the beams of light playing hide and seek with his curtains. With absolutely no enthusiasm he clambered out of his mancave, got dressed in his usual pale orange sweatshirt and Prussian denim which he matched perfectly with his white concave sneakers, He ruffled his golden brown hair and slung down his jet black backpack. For a lad who didn’t even want to wake up, he seemed quite ready to tackle the new day.
Tommy grabbed a slice of toast and just as he was about to leave through the door, he noticed something fishy... His watch wasn’t working, and after paying close attention he realised that none of the clocks in his house worked. And his striving perfection parents did not realise that at all. They looked as evergreen and carefree as they could be. A little too happy… Tommy thought as he looked up at their ear wide smiles. What freaked him out even more was that when he took another glance at the clocks, he realised that they didn’t have any hands! Clocks without hands, that’s like chocolate without sugar or a book without words. A baffled expression fell upon his face as he struck a look back at his parents who had for some reason gone paler, their eyes had mysteriously changed colours. From shades of brown to ocean blue. Clear ocean eyes met terrified hazel ones. And without a second thought, Tommy dashed out the door.
He didn’t look back when his mom called, he didn’t dare look back at his dad’s echoing voice. He ran. He ran like the wind and never stopped. Everyone had heard about the boy who harnessed the wind, he for one was the boy who ran like it. Tommy couldn’t pluck up the courage to turn around, he didn’t stop his marathon till he reached the school gates. And for the first time in forever, he felt relieved to be in school and not stuck at home. Vividly shaken by his bizarre encounter, he stumbled his way to his classroom, still gasping for air. From a distance, he looked like a floundering fish out of water. As he passed through the muticoloured corridors with walls that represent the timeline of the town, he picked up on various chitter - chatters amongst his peers. And out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a figure amongst the shadows. Towards the end of the hall, it looked like a man wearing a large cape. He couldn’t tell who though. But he knew whatever it was, it wasn’t ordinary…
“TRIIINGGG!”, rang the bell, disrupting Tommy’s train of thought.
“Time for class.”, he whispered under his breath, still focusing on the hooded figure. It seemed to shapeshift Tommy thought. As he wounded his way to his first class of the day. Mathematics. Entering the very classroom, sent chills down his spine. He didn’t like Mrs. Smith. She never smiled, all she did was yell and yell and yell. But lo and behold, when Tommy sat down in his desk, he noticed something that caught him off guard, something so sinister and devious that it froze his heart…
A smiling maths teacher.
But that wasn’t all, her usually olive black eyes, had turned to a shade of neon green. Or so he thought. Because he was the only one perspiring throughout his class. He exchanged confused looks with his peers who looked delightful and truly composed, like it was all normal. Like Mrs. Smith’s eyes didn’t magically change colours. Yes. Of course, only a mad man would think otherwise, he convinced himself he was just dreaming he believed the lie and all was fine, until he stole a glance at Becky Silverstein…
“NOOO!” he shrieked.
The entire class stared at him. Each with a pair of weird and inquisitive eyes. Dead silence. Even, Mrs. Smith who usually ignored his existence, shot him a cold glance. But none of this mattered to Tommy. His eyes were still fixated on Becky, and this time he knew he wasn’t just seeing things. Becky Silverstein, the girl who was the cause of his euphoria, had changed just like the others. Her ocean blue eyes that always calmed the storm for those who were afraid of the rain, her perfect clear eyes, through which one could see their own image. The windows to her soul that vivaciously curated the chambers of Poseidon were now gone...
Her eyes were a shade of hazel brown, like Tommy’s. And this time he knew he wasn’t just hallucinating again. He had spent infinite hours staring mindlessly into her eyes, it wasn’t brown, it was always blue. And without knowing what he was doing, he screeched,
“Becky your eyes have turned brown!”, his voice though booming, quivered with fear. Becky just smiled.
She didn’t reply, she just smiled. And not her usual million dollar one, the creepy sly kind where it feels like she is reading your mind.
And Becky wasn’t the only one smiling, it was the whole class. They were all slyly smiling. They were all looking at him eerily. Once again, Tommy sprinted, but only this time, he made the mistake of turning back. To catch one last glance of his Becky. Young love makes one so naïve, that they end up losing more than they will ever get back. That’s exactly what happened to the boy who ran faster than the wind.
He turned around, only to be taken in by time himself. By the hooded black timekeeper in the corner watching over the youngest time traveller who had run too far...
“CRASH!”, yelled the sky, this time mourning a loss. And beside an empty bed, on a wooden nightstand lay a yellow clock, showing the time as 3:45am.
- Mahathi.S
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