Twenty-one years before Now.

She ought to get ready to leave, but Jack was on the computer. Her horse-riding classes started at two, and it was a half-hour drive to get there. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece— little hand lingered over the one and the large hand over the five. She was going to be late and needed to get ready. But Jack was still on the computer.

From across the room, Lucy watched her six-year-old brother sitting at the squat desk and clicking away at the family’s bulky computer. “Get off the computer, Jack,” she said nonchalantly, but he ignored her.

She shook her head, checking her burgundy backpack to make sure she had everything: her crop, shoes, cap, and so on. If she forgot anything, she’d have to borrow old, uncomfortable gear from the riding school. The classes weren’t cheap, and she knew her parents were forking out an arm and leg to pay for them, so she had to take it seriously. But Jack is still on the computer.

“I said, get off, Jack,” Lucy repeated, her tone sharper.

“No,” Jack replied, his voice whiny and defiant.

Lucy didn’t need to use the computer, and she didn’t quite know why it bothered her so much that Jack was on it. Yet, as she watched him, she could feel her heart race, the hairs on her neck prickling. Something was wrong; she could feel it. And Jack is still on the computer.

“Is everything okay in here?” her mother asked, walking in with her usual cheery tone.

“Jack’s on the computer,” Lucy said as if pronouncing the most serious offence.

“I can see that,” her mother replied, glancing at Jack before turning back to Lucy. “Are you all ready?”

Why isn’t she telling Jack to get off? Lucy wondered. Can’t she see he needs to stop? Computers are dangerous, aren’t they? “Get off the computer, Jack,” Lucy ordered again, expecting her mother to support her.

“He’s fine on the computer,” her mother said. Jack glanced at her for the first time, sticking his tongue out before returning to the screen. Oh no, Lucy thought, she doesn’t know, does she? She doesn’t know that the computer is going to hurt him, and it is going to hurt him. She knew it; she knew it more surely than anything else in the world. The computer was going to hurt Jack; that was undeniably certain.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and her hands had become clammy. She couldn’t focus on her bag or its contents anymore. The only thought in her mind was: Get him off the computer. The warning started to scream. “I said get off it Jack!” Lucy yelled, rushing over and yanking him from the computer chair by the shoulder.

“Mom!” Jack cried, trying to push Lucy away. But she was older, bigger, and dragged him from the machine despite his protests.

“Leave him alone!” their mother shouted, rushing to separate the two. Free of Lucy’s grip, Jack tried to climb back onto the chair, but Lucy pushed past their mother, grabbing him again and pulling him to the floor violently. He fell hard, falling flat on his back, and began to cry. Lucy was crying too.

“I said, get off him!” their mother yelled, grabbing Lucy just as roughly and pulling her away. Lucy wailed, flailing in her mother’s arms, trying to break free, and her screams echoed through the house.

“What is wrong with you?” her mother demanded.

“He can’t go on it, Mom!” Lucy screamed back. “It’ll hurt him—it’s gonna get him!”

“What’s going to get him?” her mother asked frantically.

“The computer!” Lucy shrieked. “The computer’s gonna get him.”

“What are you talking about?” her mother asked, bewildered. “It’s just a computer. It can’t hurt him.”

“Yes, it can!” Lucy protested. “It can and it will!”

“What the fuck is going on in here?” her father shouted, storming into the room, drawn in by the sounds of the chaos.

“I don’t know,” her mother said, “Lucy’s upset about something and just attacked Jack.”

Her father checked on Jack, who was still crying on the floor, but satisfied he wasn’t really hurt, he sent him upstairs. Then he took Lucy from her mother’s grasp and forcibly sat her down on the sofa. By this point, Lucy was barely aware they were even there.

Her wide, frantic eyes darted around the room as if searching for predators lurking in every shadow. Her breathing was rapid, her ribcage aching from the pressure of her lungs. Her heart cascaded with such rapidity she feared it might burst from her chest and carry itself across the room. All the while, her mind wailed and screamed at her.

Get him off the computer, it ordered; get him away from it. It’s going to hurt him. It’s going to hurt us all. The computer wants to hurt us. It wants to hurt me. It’s going to get him, and then it's going to get me. It’s going to get us all. It will be my fault. If I don’t get him away from the computer, it will all be my fault.

“He’s not even on the computer anymore!” her father said, seemingly responding to her inner voice. Had I been speaking out loud? Lucy wondered. The worlds outside and inside her mind had become a melded mess. She could no longer tell the difference between the voices in her head and those of her parents.

“What’s wrong with her?” her mother asked, her voice tight with concern.

“I don’t know,” her father replied.

“Do we take her to the hospital?”

“Are you mad? If we take her like this, they’ll lock her up and never let her out.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Wait for her to calm down. This has to pass. Now unplug that damn computer!”

Yes, Lucy thought, unplug it before it gets us.