Time Limit

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Tick, Tock Goes the Clock

I stood there, in the middle of Oliver's driveway, astounded. I couldn't help but smile. I'd love to see you there. I'd love to see you there. The thought kept swirling around my head. I glanced back at Lainey and Nathan, but they weren't there. I guess I'll go home, I thought. I tried to drag out the trip home, but I always round that corner too quickly.

As I mounted the steps, I noticed a letter propped up against the door. Must mean my dad isn't home, I thought. The letter had my name written on it in regal handwriting: Ivy Elizabeth Mae. It was from The Society. I opened it, hurriedly.

"That's an invitation from The Society. There's a ceremony tomorrow. It's formal, but you have to wear your watch. And you'll need to borrow on of my dresses." A voice spoke from behind me. It was Lainey.

"Okay," I replied. I had to wear my watch? I hated wearing my watch. I don't want to know when I'm going to die. My mom was screaming when she died. She was scared because she knew her time was running low.

"I told Nathan I'd meet back up with him," Lainey said. "I came to make sure I didn't miss any wedding announcements."

"Yeah, that didn't happen," Lainey rolled her eyes as she skipped away, excitedly. I trudged upstairs to my room to get my watch. I walked over to my dresser. There my mom's old jewelry box sat. I hadn't opened it in so long. If this ceremony is tomorrow, I might as well set my watch out so I don't forget it. I thought. I reached in the elegant box. The watch was the only object in the box, so it was easy to find. I picked it up and stared at its face. I dropped the watch and gasped. The watch read Monday, September 13th, 4015. I had a month to live.

One month? The thought kept swirling around in my head. Did my dad know? Is that why he was being nice to me? One month.

I spun around and leapt out the door. I started running, as I always do. I run away from my problems. It makes me feel like I am proactively solving a problem, when in reality, I am just running away. That's what my therapist says, anyway. My vision was blurry. I couldn't see where I was going. I distantly heard the squealing of tires on the road, coming desperately to a stop.

Like my life, I thought. I noticed I was sweating more then usual. My cheeks were slippery and wet. I am crying. I slowed my run. I am terrified. What am I going to do?




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