7 Minutes Left -- 6:00|Part 1

My eyes snapped open almost as suddenly as they had closed.

I was in bed again – light seeping in through the windows. My worried feeling from before was nagging at me. I felt helpless, and strangely out of place. I needed to figure out what was happening. Before I could acknowledge anything, my body rolled over, preparing to stand up. I gripped my baby blanket that I still slept with and wrapped it around myself like a burrito. Everything was happening on command. A pang of realization hit me. It was almost as if I was living in someone else’s eyes.

Oh no.

Not again.

I was still Maddie, but it wasn’t the right Maddie.

The world felt brighter and blurrier than usual. Maddie – or maybe I – somehow ended up in the living room. Her eyes shut again, but I was still aware of everything around her. Footsteps were booming against the floor. Eventually, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and a small voice close to her ear.

“Time to start getting ready sweetie.” Mom ruffled her hair a little, causing Maddie to sit up and pat it down. I always had been a perfectionist. The question was, who was I right now – when was I?

Kelsey already had her backpack on, she was ready to leave. Her hair was curled. It always looked so pretty curled, I always admired the way she looked perfectly presentable for school.

“Ready for your first day back?” Maddie’s head turned to Mom, a smile etched onto her face. It felt more practiced than real. That’s how things used to be, trying extra hard to pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. Kelsey set the example for me throughout childhood. We took it easy on Mom – that’s just the way things were.

My brain throbbed as I tried to figure out what was going on. One day of reliving a memory was simply a nightmare, two felt like insanity. Was I going insane? I had so many questions that no one could answer for me. No one could hear me, I was helpless, stuck and isolated in a world of endless impermanence. Would I ever be able to make a decision for myself again? No one could hear me. I’d never wanted so badly to have a voice in my life.

Nine? I tried to figure out how old Maddie must’ve been now. She must’ve been – but why? Maddie was starting fourth grade today. Was there something significant about this day? I thought hard, but came up short.

“Go get ready so I can get a picture of you and Kelsey,” Mom exclaimed. She had her cheery voice tuned for this moment. I knew that this single mom act would begin taking a toll in a couple years, but it was nice to see her trying hard to normalize things. Even if nothing about their lives was normal anymore.

Maddie slumped off the couch, starting to head to her room. “Be quick!” Mom yelled from down the hall. Maddie began to run, plowing down the hall like a racecar driver. She only hit her elbow on the wall once, which seemed like a big accomplishment to her.

In the closet, bright colors were jumping out at me. My wardrobe had definitely changed a lot since fourth grade. Maddie chose a shirt in the front, still tagged from being new. It was light pink with a dark pink collar and sleeves. She snugged on some overall shorts after putting on the shirt, and admired the outfit in the mirror.

Maddie unwrinkled some parts of the shirt and tucked it nicely under the overalls after assessing her outfit. As soon as she finished, Maddie was back at it again, running through all the halls and bustling to the living room – ending up completely out of breath. Mom pushed her outside on the porch to take a picture of her and Kelsey. They held small chalkboard signs. Maddie’s had a four on it and Kelsey’s had an eight.

Maddie’s smile stretched wide, though I could feel the stiffness behind it – my stiffness – the part of me that still knew it wasn’t real.

Maddie was missing two teeth due to a soccer game and Kelsey playing “dentist” with her. Kelsey’s smile was subtle, painted onto a cold surface. Her teeth were hidden below her lips as she smiled due to her embarrassment of her new braces. I’d envied her for them.

Mom took a photo and smiled in a way that said, “You girls have grown up so much.” I knew the real reason why Mom was getting emotional. Guilt. Their whole lives were the thread spun on a needle of guilt. Each year, it would only grow, driving a tear through the family that they pretended wasn’t there. Maddie had always been one of the pretenders. Kelsey wasn’t. She knew – she always did. She didn’t pretend everything was okay, because it wasn’t. It would be awhile before Kelsey hid her hurt from everyone else. I knew it would happen.

The family didn’t mention Dad anymore. It was like he never existed. The wedding photos were gone. The family photos were gone. Baby book photos were ripped from their places all out of rage. It wasn’t hard to pretend anymore. Not for Maddie at least.

Maddie took the bus, walking all by herself. The walks to the bus were always interesting. I’d always had an imagination that was difficult to explain to adults. There was never a boring moment with my brain ticking. It gave me a second to figure out what was going on.

What was I doing in my fourth grade body? This had to be connected to the day before. I knew it. I quickly did the calculations in my head. I’d jumped forward two years. Did that mean something? I just couldn’t figure it out. Everything seemed like some sort of weird dream, but I would’ve woken up by now… right?

It all seemed too real to be a dream. There was no way I could’ve imagined all of this so perfectly. The dates were so random. The first time was Christmas morning – 12/25/14. I ran through my head, trying to remember the dates of when school started in fourth grade. My mind was blanking, taking so much willpower to even think for myself. I felt trapped.

School was most likely around the middle of August. I estimated 8/18/16. The dates had absolutely no correlation.

I’d already gotten rid of my theory of time travel. Even if time travel did exist, I’d actually have been able to move for myself if I was back in time. I must’ve been hallucinating. I was in a coma and hallucinating. I must’ve been – it was my only theory that made sense. Everything else just didn’t seem right.