When the Lights Go Out {complete first draft}

Day Two: Lunch Time

                  I dropped my bag down on the table and made a beeline for my sister. She looked at me, surprised, gripping her tray tighter.

                  “Marisol?”

                  “Kendal,” I hissed.

                  Her brow creased, and her eyes widened. For a moment, she looked young again. She looked how I’ve always seen her, my young, beautiful sister. “What?”

                  “Stop it. Stop this right now. Get this out of your head. He’s not worth it, and you’re better than that. You deserve better than him. You don’t need it. You don’t need to try and impress him because you’ve got better things to worry about. You’re got lots to sort out and organize. You can’t chuck your life away, Kendal. It’s too short, honey. One day you’ll wake up and wonder where it all went – but hopefully not where it all went wrong – and you’ll think back to this part of your life.”

                  “What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

                  Yes, I thought. I’m dying every twenty-four hours and then I’m waking up again. It’s the same day if I want it to be. It’s a different day if I change just one thing. It doesn’t matter what I do to stop it, or what I try and do to change it, I keep dying, and reliving this one, stupid Friday. My life is in a hiatus, and I can’t do anything to stop it. I can’t try and turn it into a different day. I can’t move forward and I can’t move back. “No,” I replied. “I’m just trying to warn you—” I stopped myself. If this wasn’t the day I died – as this was the third time it’s Friday – then I couldn’t warn her. Everything about today was irrelevant. She wouldn’t learn anything. I wouldn’t be able to show everyone that this was important. This didn’t really exist. This wasn’t real life. If I couldn’t warn people and if I couldn’t help people, then what was I doing here?

                  “Warn me about what?”

                  “Life’s too short, Kendal.”

                  “Did you swallow too much chlorine earlier, or what?”

                  “I’m being serious,” I said bitterly.

                  “So am I,” Kendal said tartly.

                  Just like that I realized that our lives were in completely different places. Sure, we lived in the same house, had the same friends and family, and even had – roughly – the same IQ. But she was a figment of my imagination right now, I guess. I’d left her behind the day I died in that basement. Because I must have died. This couldn’t be a dream, not one that span on this long and always ended in my tragic demise.

                  A made a noise at the back of my throat and walked off back to the table. I watched as Kendal followed, bewildered and cross. It made me frustrated that I was only trying to help her, and she wasn’t accepting it. She couldn’t see. She didn’t understand. She sat down next to Matthew and smiled at him. I sighed.

                  Vincent leaned in close to me. His cologne wafted up my nose and nearly made me sneeze. At least all my senses were normal. At least today I didn’t smell strawberries. Although I haven’t died this time yet – I have a few hours left. It’s almost humorous to wonder how I’m going to die this time, to see what fate gives me as a new punishment. It’s just a shame I don’t know what I’m being punished for. I don’t know what mistake to learn from.