15 Minutes
Excerpt:
I have 15 minutes to save my mother’s life….
Action
Time
travel?
Flipping
through the pages I see short-term memory loss is to be expected but will fade
soon. I paid money to go back, but why into a school? Something about it is
familiar, and I know the hall I’m standing in leads to a music room.
But
I don’t know how I know any of this. I just do. As if memories were uploaded
into my brain.
A
photo falls from my papers and lands face up.
Her
face. Her eyes. It’s like looking in the mirror.
I
scoop the picture up and head down the hall. A piano chord strikes. The soft
tone echoes toward me, and the digital watch on my wrist beeps. A rush of
memories slam into my mind, knocking me off balance. I wobble on my feet as if
the collision were physical. I retch, the vomit threatening to spill.
Swallowing, it burns like racing lava. I check my watch.
I
only have thirteen minutes left.
I
don’t bother to look through the doors to find five-year-old me. Instead, I
race down the hall, feet gliding across the linoleum. My hood flaps behind me
as my body crashes into the elementary school front doors. Blinding sunlight
greets me, and I am flying down the hill. My arms pump, and I suck in deep
breaths of air, like I learned in my time as a sprinter at Cambridge High.
Rounding
the corner onto Mass Avenue, I see Tower Records off in the distance.
Beep.
I
now have ten minutes to run eight blocks in time to save Mom. If I don’t make
it, if I fail, I won’t get another shot.
Romance
“She’s
my mother,” my voice quivers. I close my eyes when he touches my cheek. “Ever
since the first time I went back on my birthday—I can’t stop thinking about
her, Rick.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
He
nuzzles my cheek, and I feel his warming breath against my skin. I’m safe,
comfortable.
“I
saw how she was with me,” I whisper, because if I have to be any louder I won’t
be able to go on. “I was a baby, and I saw how much she loved me. She sang to
me. My dad—-we were all so happy.” I shake my head. “That’s what I want. I need
that. He does too.”
Rick’s
eyes soften. “And if you’re successful, you know things will change.”
“Of
course I do. I’ll have my mom.”
“Not
that.” He glances away, pain etched on his face. “Your life will change. Our
life.”
My
brow furrows. “What are you trying to say?”
“What
if we don’t know each other anymore?
What if we lose each other?”
The
idea quickens my pulse. I brush his soft hair off his brow. “It won’t. Nothing
could change how I feel about you.”
Doubt
mars his face. I lean forward and brush my lips against his. Passion comes
quick as our lips part, searching each other. I wrap my arms around his neck as
he lifts his body onto the bed beside me. He kisses my jaw and rests his head
against mine.
“I
don’t want to lose our future, Lara. Are you willing to risk everything you
know for this?”
Rather
than answer him, I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me.
I’m cocooned and safe.
Despite
it all, the answer is yes.
Action
Locker
63.
My
eyes sweep aisle after aisle until I find the one I’m looking for. It’s blue
and unassuming, but it could unlock the secret to everything. I lick my lips as
I insert the key, close my eyes, and with a prayer, twist.
Click.
The
door opens, and inside I find more than documents. There’s also a pink hoodie,
a duffle bag, and a fresh change of clothes.
What
was I preparing for? What was I doing? I open the manila envelope on the bottom
and flip through the documents—a lot of reports, surveillance photos, old
newspaper clippings. I don’t have time to go through all of it now, so I stash
them in my duffle bag and throw on some new clothes.
A
tight-fitting t-shirt, pink hoodie, and comfortable blue jeans are my new
outfit. It’s a weird choice for trendy, sophisticated Lara, but she was up to
something big. Real big.
I
lift the hidden duffle bag out of the locker, surprised at how hefty it is. I
unzip it and find money inside. A lot of money. I touch it. Must be thousands
of dollars bound together in neat little stacks.
My
heart quickens as I wonder where it came from and what I was planning to do
with it. If ever there was a moment for a flashback, it's now. A shining blue
cell phone at the bottom of the duffle bag catches my attention. I pull it out
and see a note stuck to it. In my handwriting.
Hide in the shower. Move fast.
Wide
eyed and with a pounding heart, I slam the locker, grab everything, and run
down the hall. I turn into the showers and duck into a stall, the vinyl shower
curtain flapping against me. I still it with trembling fingers as I hear heavy
steps enter the locker room.
Romance
I
cover my head as a set of tires squeal. Donovan’s sports car pulls up on the
curb to cover me. I dive into the passenger seat, my head down low and scream,
“Go!”
Donovan
peels away from the curb in a 180 and drives back the way he came. His eyes
stay on the road, but his hand squeezes mine. “You all right?”
I
nod and clutch the duffle bag to my chest. “Keep driving.”
“Where?”
His eyes flash from the road to me.
“Police
station. I need you to drop all this stuff off in case I don’t return.”
Anxiety
creeps into his voice. “Return? Return from where?”
“The
past.”
“Lara,
you’re not making any sense.”
“I
know, and I’m sorry.” I bite my lip. “There’s no time to explain. I need to fix
all of this so my dad was never framed and Molly was never kidnapped, and
there’s only one way to do that. I need to go back to the beginning.”
Donovan
drives under an old abandoned bridge. He cuts the engine and turns to me. His
eyes study me, and I study him because I’m afraid the next time I see him, he
won’t love me at all.
“How
do we do that? Do we need to get into Rewind?”
I
shake my head and stroke his cheek. “Not anymore.”
The
features of his face are drawn together. “You never make things dull, you know
that?”
I
laugh and lean over. In the background, sirens wail and I hear a rush of
footsteps. “Remember me when I’m gone.”
“Don’t
talk like this. I could never forget you, Lara.”
When
our lips meet, the moment is magical. I feel warm everywhere in the blanket of
his love, understanding, and compassion. My mind opens up, and suddenly I
remember everything.
Everything.
I
wish to stay with him forever. I grip his jacket, and his arms squeeze me
tight.
But
in my mind, I see an alley.
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15 Minutes
A Short story By Stacy Green Free on Amazon.It has 5 Stars
A lover of the written word since the time she first picked up a pen, Kristina Circelli shares her passion for fiction in her multi-genre novels.
Circelli is the author of several fiction books, including The Sour Orange Derby, a young adult novel about family and childhood imagination steeped in southern traditions; Beyond the Western Sun and Walk the Red Road of The Whisper Legacy, which centers on Native American cultures and the legends that come to life in the spirit realm; and The Helping Hands, a book that follows a gang of friends who rescue abused children.
Currently, Circelli works as a copywriter, author, book editor, and creative writing professor at the University of North Florida, where she received her Bachelor's and Master's degrees in English. She resides in Florida, with her husband and two kittens.
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