In Time

-Twenty Seven-

4 April 2017, Tuesday

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I woke up on the stone bench, my hair and shirt plastered to my sweaty flesh. My mind was running itself automatically; it was the 4th of April today, I was with Mum at the Family Day and I had a job to do – I had to save Cherlyn from her kidnapper! I scrambled up into a sitting position, immediately realising that something was amiss.

I couldn't hear the laughter of the children or any noises indicating that there was an event at Crestbridge Park. There weren't people with their candy floss and plush toy prizes from the booth games. I stood up. There was no Family Day at all. All I saw was a large grassy area covered with wooden planks on the ground and the metal skeletons of the makeshift carnival stalls. Something was not right; there was litter everywhere on the ground, as though the carnival was already over.

I twisted my left wrist instinctively to check the time on my watch, but I wasn't wearing it. Cursing, I dug for my handphone in my pocket, but it wasn't there either. What was I doing before I came to Crestbridge Park? What day was it today? What time was it?

Right, time! I was time-travelling from a previous timeline. I'd failed, Diana had died and I'd approached Thyme to transport me back in time once again. But why would she bring me back to a different date other than 4 April? It didn't make any sense; she would have known that I wanted to redo everything all over again.

But no, this time it was different. I remembered the scream that came out in pieces before I blacked out. My memories were getting more blurry by the second and I couldn't remember what it said, but it was something along the lines of stopping Thyme from helping me time-travel. I got it, it had to be Fate. She was the one who was against all this time-travelling business. I had to meet her and thrash everything out with her.

But first I had to save Diana! I realised with horror that I had no idea what day it was today. I could very well be too late already. Diana could already be dead and I would have made another futile attempt. I had no time to lose.

I ran up to the first passer-by I could see in Crestbridge Park. It was an elderly man walking his poodle. "Sir, what's the day and date today? Please I need to know!" I begged, my heart palpitating.

The elderly man turned and looked at me with a smug on his face. "What'd you know?! A young chap like yourself asking an old man like me about the day and date?! Dementia strikes young kid, I swear! Go get yourself treated!" he cackled while his poodle panted excitedly at his feet.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, just check your watch! This is really important!"

"Have you been messing with narcotics young one? Fancy forgetting information like that!" He squinted his eyes, "Seems like my glasses aren't working right young chap!"

My patience ran out. I wrenched his arm into view, coming face front with his analogue watch. It was 4:05pm, 7 April. It was Homecoming Day, or at least it was coming to an end to be exact.

"...stop that! Are you trying to rob a poor old man you thug..." he wriggled out of my grip.

I had no time to lose. Immediately, I made a run for Crestbridge High School using the shortest route that I knew of.

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7 April 2017, Friday

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By the time I reached the gates of Crestbridge High, the celebrations for Homecoming were almost over. The finale – Jon and George's football match – was already underway on the school field; I could hear the unmistakable screams of the supporting students even from outside the school compound.

The front gates were locked and there was no way that I was going to get in without having to answer to Mr Lee, the discipline master. Or at least I couldn't come up with any excuse that allowed me to return back to the school compound while Homecoming was underway. Crestbridge High always locked the front gates as a precautionary measure after the school realised that an increasing number of students were starting to play truant, either by coming to school as late as they fancied or by leaving school before it was dismissal time.

Just then, a thought slipped into my mind. I could get into Crestbridge High through the back gate! There weren't any security guards stationed there, and the new CCTV hadn't been installed yet. That way, I could get into Crestbridge High undetected.

Sprinting towards the opposite end of the school compound, I came face to face with a metallic blue gate. It towered several feet over me, but I already had a good idea of scaling it – it didn't even have any barbed wires at the top to deter climbers. Something was weird. I'd never used this gate to enter Crestbridge High ever, yet climbing this particular gate gave me an uncanny familiarity, as though I'd climbed it a hundred times before.

The coast was clear. Placing my good leg one of the ridges, I grabbed onto the vertical metal fencing with both hands pushed off with a burst of energy. As soon as I was up, I lifted my other leg over the top of the gate and stepped onto the same horizontal ridge on the other side of the gate. Crunching down, I leapt down from the ridge that I was standing on, landing on all fours on the other side.

I had no idea how I pulled that off. I never had any amplitude for anything physical; Aus could vouch that I was always came in last in physical education when our teacher forced us to do sprints and long-distance running. Yet the whole process felt almost natural, as though it was embedded in my muscle memory.

Eager not to waste another moment, I made my way to the orchestra practice room, rationalising that the orchestra would be packing up at this time. I opened the door of the practice room to a bewildered Beverly and a smug-looking Victoria.

Victoria strolled up to me immediately, clapping her hands in an exaggerated fashion. "Why, is someone too good to play for Homecoming? Good job pulling off your disappearing act," she dripped with sarcasm.

I took a quick scan around the practice room, seeing my bag and violin still on one of the chairs. Seemed like I had left halfway in the middle of practice in this timeline.

"I mean not that it matters anyway, no one will be able to hear you from your last desk," Victoria emphasised on the last two words, still not done with her insults.

"S-S-Stop it V-Victoria!" an unfamiliar scream echoed through the practice room and everyone fell silent. It was a girl's. It was Beverly's. Her scream was unfamiliar because I'd never heard her speak louder than a whisper before. And here she was, standing up against Victoria. And in 1st Violin, no one stood up to Victoria.

"And what if I choose not to, Beverly dearest? What would you do to me?" Victoria rebutted, each of her words laced with increasingly intensity. "Who calls the shots around here?!" she bellowed.

I'd had enough putting up with her tyranny. Beverly too. We were oppressed for far too long. And it was time to break free.

"I'm quitting the orchestra," I announced matter-of-factly. The number of shits I'd left to give had dropped to an absolute zero.

"Then I'm quitting too," the timid voice sounding more like Beverly's chimed in.

I could almost see Victoria's nostrils flaring, but she took a deep breath to calm herself down. "You spineless, useless ingrates, quit for all I care! Good riddance!" she flipped a musical stand over and stormed out of the practice room.

Beverly flashed me a smile. "Thanks Xavier, I've been wanting to do that for quite a while now. And now I'm finally heeding your advice."

Something was wrong with this timeline. This was not Beverly.