9:25 am was when the clock stopped.
It froze mid-tick. It’s like everything halted, every breath, every train, yet people kept on moving as if nothing was wrong. Until the doors opened.
That’s when the screaming started.
~~~~~165Please respect copyright.PENANASFGIumB74R
“Mom, I have to go.” I all but beg my mother for a ride, but she shakes her head, rummaging around for her pocketbook.
“I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t bring you.” Frustration bubbles in my gut, I need to go! You’d think being a 17-year-old girl I’d have my license, but no, not yet.
“It’s my state music competition, I need to be there.” I groan and mom just runs a hand through her brown hair and hands me $50.
“Go to the train station and buy a ticket, the rest is for emergency.” I nod and gingerly pocket the money. I’ll admit that I hate going places by myself, but I have to suck it up. Not only that, but I have to win this. With rapid speed, I pack up my violin and grab my sheet music. I usually play piano, but my tutor told me to go with the violin for this competition. Even if I am a little nervous, I trust her. She’s won ten times as many trophies as I have, not just that, but she listens to the music, she feels it. That’s what I love about her.
“I love you, Sloane. You’ll do great!” Mom shouts as she hurries to leave, I gather all my stuff and race out to wave goodbye.
“Love you!” I holler after her and smile slightly as she drives away. It’s already 8:30 am, it takes about 30 mins to walk, so I have to get started. I hoist my case over my shoulder and tuck my sheet music case under my arm.
Time for a nice walk early in the morning, I’m being sarcastic, obviously. What I really need to be doing right now is practicing, but no, I have to walk. I stuff my headphones in and drown out the sound of traffic, "Infernal Galop" from Act II, Scene 2 of Jacques Offenbach's 1858 operetta Orpheus in the Underworld, pours out, and I try to memorize each crescendo. Normally I listen to indie or early 2000 Brittney Spears, but during competitions I listen to classical, it helps me focus. The music fills my senses and I tap out the beat on my thigh as I walk. It’s beautiful, each dip and rise of the instruments as they come together as one.
I’m not sure how long I spend scrolling through my playlist, but I find myself at the train station doors. Well, I didn’t get kidnapped, so that’s a plus. My phone buzzes with a text, and I quickly look down to see my best friend, Randin.
“Hey! Wish you tons of luck on your comp!” I smile slightly as I read his message. Randin has zero interest in classical music and playing instruments, but he’s always there for me.
“Thanks, hopefully, that asshole Chelly isn’t there.” I text back, thinking about that strawberry-blonde bitch. She’s always so stuck up and snobby, yes, I’ll admit she’s good but not that good. She’s got more of an ego than a narcissist.
“Ha! I bet you she is. But, just hit her with a chair. That’ll solve everything.” A snort leaves my mouth as I pay for my ticket. It’s only around an hour away, so I’ll get there around 10 am.
“Lol thanks for the tip, I’ll keep it in mind,” I reply and send another text saying that I have to go.
“Ok, love you, have fun, and don’t be nervous.” Randin texts and I smile slightly.
“Love you too.” I shut my phone off and stuff the ticket in my pocket, plopping in my seat, waiting for the bus to come. Please hurry. I rest my head on the back of the seat, listening to the clicking of the clock.
Ticktock, ticktock, ticktock.
Pain stabs at my foot and I wince, my eyes flying open to see what happened.
“Whoops.” A boy says and goes to the seat across from me. My eyes widen momentarily, oh you’ve got to be kidding me. Esmond Maddox sits across from me, the golden boy of Ridge view high. Golden boy and low-key bad boy, people can’t seem to decide what stereotype he belongs in. Both, I guess.
“Whoops? You stepped on my foot.” I say, hugging my violin tighter to my chest. It was from my sister, so it’s one of the most important things to me.
“Simply an accident,” Esmond says, a smirk on those unfairly pink lips of his. Of course, he has to be drop-dead gorgeous on top of everything. God really did a good job with him, it seems, he spared no amount of effort on me though. Thanks god, I’m really feeling the love right now. I roll my eyes but let the subject drop, he won’t say sorry anyway. I must be too low on the social ladder for him to even care, let alone know I exist. Furthermore, I force my eyes closed and keep my hands firmly on my violin to help me feel calm. I hate this place, always so crowded.
“It’s, uh, Sloane, right?” This time, I do open my eyes and cock my head. How’d he remember? I’m not saying I’m the bullied loner at school or depressed emo, no, I’m more of just...average. I blend in with everyone else, no one special, but no one different. So you can see why I’m so surprised that he knew my name.
“Um, yeah.” I stammer, and he smirks at me, propping his head on his fist.
“You were in my bio class last year.” I cringe as memories of that class come back to me. That was a god-awful class, I hated every second of it. Esmond seems to understand my reaction and smiles slightly.
“And I thought I was bad at bio, you were totally another level of bad.” He says chuckling and I scowl, it’s just not my thing.
“At least I came to all the classes.” Aha, gotcha now. Esmond seems too tense, but shrugs anyway. His blue eyes becoming distant.
“touché.” I twist my fingers and close my eyes again, listening to the clock. Ticktock, ticktock, ticktock.
“Where are you going?” Esmond asks, and I let out a sigh, why is he now talking to me. He must be bored or something.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Esmond rolls his eyes yet fingers the corners of his ticket to the same train as me.
“I asked you first.” I scoff and let my leg bounce up and down slightly. Do I tell him, yes? No? Maybe? A breath leaves my mouth and Esmond smiles, knowing I’ve caved.
“State classical music competition.” I mutter and his eyes widen slightly as if he’s surprised I actually do something with my life.
“Oh, I never knew that.” Why would you? You never talk to me, and I never talk to you. That’s just how things work.
“Why are you here, I thought you had a car?” I ask, changing the subject, and he rubs the back of his neck. 165Please respect copyright.PENANAi6GSJ2KGgn
“Car troubles.” I nod, not entirely believing him, but not expanding on the subject any further. Silence fills the air and people start to get confused by why no trains have arrived yet. As I listen again, the only thing I hear beyond the voices is the clock.
Ticktock, ticktock, tick-It stops.
9:25 am was when the clock stopped.
It froze mid-tick. It’s like everything halted, every breath, every train, yet people kept on moving as if nothing was wrong. Until the doors opened.
That’s when the screaming started.
165Please respect copyright.PENANAp9akDaGuHC