Categories > Original > Drama
If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”
“Beep beep beep” The horrid, loud noise that is my alarm clock startles me awake, keeping me from the blissful sleep I so dearly needed. “Beep beep beep” it continues and I groan halfheartedly, sleepily trying to hit the button on my phone to turn it off. It takes me a good three tries to actually make contact, each beep driving me insane.
Sluggishly sitting up, the first thing I manage to focus on is the countdown. Of course. How could I forget about it? With t-minus 4 hours, 12 minutes and 22, 21, 20 seconds, it was always there, ever so slowly winding down.
Sighing, I start thinking about the millions of ways my day could turn out and most of them aren’t at all pleasant. I’m just about to plop back down onto my pillow and avoid the day, spending it in bed, when I think “if you had one shot, or one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would you capture it or just let it slip?”
At that, I have to laugh at myself, realizing that even half-asleep my brain communicates with song lyrics. And Eminem lyrics for fucks sake. With my anxiety slightly sated, I begin the process of getting up and getting ready. It’s going to be a long day.
Fast forward nearly four hours later and I’m sitting in the back corner of one of the local libraries, my favorite place in the world, except perhaps my bed. I ended up here because I figure if I’m going to actually meet my “soul mate” it should be somewhere I’m content. I keep trying to focus on my book, my beloved copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but I can’t. I’m too fixated on the countdown engraved into my wrist, like a… well, for lack of a better comparison, like a wrist watch.
Just less than fifteen minutes now.
Nearly at ten minutes. I’m starting to shake.
Five minutes. I’m so nervous I want to bolt.
Three minutes. Time’s going by painfully slow.
Two minutes. I get up and stand by the nearest shelf in the hopes of catching an early glance.
One minute. My heart is going to explode.
Thirty seconds. I don’t see anyone at all… Panic is close.
Twenty seconds. Should I run to a more visible place?
Ten seconds. I knew it was a fucking fairytale.
Five, four, three, two…
…
One.
There’s a tap on my shoulder and I spin around so quickly I don’t even think you could see it.
“Beep beep beep” The horrid, loud noise that is my alarm clock startles me awake, keeping me from the blissful sleep I so dearly needed. “Beep beep beep” it continues and I groan halfheartedly, sleepily trying to hit the button on my phone to turn it off. It takes me a good three tries to actually make contact, each beep driving me insane.
Sluggishly sitting up, the first thing I manage to focus on is the countdown. Of course. How could I forget about it? With t-minus 4 hours, 12 minutes and 22, 21, 20 seconds, it was always there, ever so slowly winding down.
Sighing, I start thinking about the millions of ways my day could turn out and most of them aren’t at all pleasant. I’m just about to plop back down onto my pillow and avoid the day, spending it in bed, when I think “if you had one shot, or one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted in one moment, would you capture it or just let it slip?”
At that, I have to laugh at myself, realizing that even half-asleep my brain communicates with song lyrics. And Eminem lyrics for fucks sake. With my anxiety slightly sated, I begin the process of getting up and getting ready. It’s going to be a long day.
Fast forward nearly four hours later and I’m sitting in the back corner of one of the local libraries, my favorite place in the world, except perhaps my bed. I ended up here because I figure if I’m going to actually meet my “soul mate” it should be somewhere I’m content. I keep trying to focus on my book, my beloved copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but I can’t. I’m too fixated on the countdown engraved into my wrist, like a… well, for lack of a better comparison, like a wrist watch.
Just less than fifteen minutes now.
Nearly at ten minutes. I’m starting to shake.
Five minutes. I’m so nervous I want to bolt.
Three minutes. Time’s going by painfully slow.
Two minutes. I get up and stand by the nearest shelf in the hopes of catching an early glance.
One minute. My heart is going to explode.
Thirty seconds. I don’t see anyone at all… Panic is close.
Twenty seconds. Should I run to a more visible place?
Ten seconds. I knew it was a fucking fairytale.
Five, four, three, two…
…
One.
There’s a tap on my shoulder and I spin around so quickly I don’t even think you could see it.
Sign up to rate and review this story