Maybe it's the knowledge of the inevitable that makes me want to scream. Maybe it's my teenage mood swings. Maybe it's the stupid homework. But I wanted to scream and I didn't know why. "Kimmy, how was school?" My dad asked, looking up from his newspaper. I shrugged in response and swallowed my soup. "It was fine. Just different." I said. It was almost like a recitation. I missed the only friend I had since kindergarten. The only attention I ever got anymore was unwanted. But I couldn't stop thinking about the flicker. I sat up with a jolt in bed. I had just had a strange dream. I was in the passenger seat of the car with my mom, and then this car, traveling towards us in the wrong lane hit us full speed. My mom didn't make it. I groaned and tried to shake myself out of the shock. The flicker. Maybe the dream was related to my mom's timer flicker. Maybe I could save her. Maybe... Maybe I didn't have to lose her in five days. The alarm still read 5:45. Or maybe it was 4:55? Either way, it was much too early to be awake. I laid back and tried to see how I could fix it. People's timers were going to end one way or another, but Mom's flickered. There still might be time for her.
