This…is a horrible, horrible idea.

That’s what I first thought when I overlooked the highway, regretting my decision to even undertake this. I shivered in nervousness as I wiped my sweaty hands on my shirt, watching as cars and trucks alike drove past. Light glared from the passing vehicles as the setting sun behind me reflected off of them. The wind did me no justice as It whipped past me, gently dragging my clothes, warning me of the dangers below. This was my last resort. I tried everything I could have possibly thought of for the past few days to replicate what I experienced the week before. Nevertheless, there was still one idea I haven’t dared to try, for good reason.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun was just about to pass below the city line so I had to make this work. Or die trying. Literally.

I slowly made my descent, using the ramps leading down to the sidewalks that ran beside the highway. Once at the bottom I turned towards the three lane road. I hesitated like a stag at bay. Which was to be expected, who would ever bet their life on a dice roll.

Previously, for hours I tried meditating. Looking down within. Deep into the soul for some anomaly or unordinary object that may have triggered the time stopping phenomenon. However I found nothing. I suspected that the Chinese monk website I found at the Internet cafe was a sham, most undoubtedly.

Soon after giving up the monk route I decided to go back to the slums, to an area I had never bothered entering. I joined the cultists. For research purposes of course. These… unusual people tend to worship deities, demons, or murals that have nothing to do with time. Only death and resurrection. I only participated in a few sessions before the Kingdoms Sentinels raided the place, ending a lead I didn’t think would lead me to what I wanted. Good riddance.

Lastly, before ending up at the edge of the highway I was at the church. The Global Church of Christ, or whatever they go by these days. I sat in their chapels for a whole day, praying, questioning, begging for an answer. Yeah. Maybe the Priest wanted to convert a new believer with a few misguidances of power.

I did try hitting the public library, a place I did frequent in my younger years but the books on philosophy and understanding of time and space are far too complicated to understand. Including the fact that they were a few decades outdated. Perhaps the model magazines may have reduced my incentive to learn, but that's beside the point.

Which leaves me here. Teetering at the edge of the sidewalk, debating on whether I'm sane or not. My purpose in being here was to replicate the scenario. If I'm successful I can give a green for the next stage of my plan, if so, I can flip our whole life situation around.

I watched as the cars went by with a roar, with an occasional honk from passing vehicles. My thoughts were in shambles, split between sanity and insanity as my gut and consciousness battled.

”OI kid, move out of the way. We're passing through,” someone said with a dull tone. Caught off guard from the voice behind me, I turned, albeit a bit late. A large group of cyclists, made up of tattooed individuals, were right behind me. With no warning or remorse the leading biker pushed me out of the way, making room for the rest of the group. Saying, “Oh shit, my bad,” in the process.

As the result of being shoved I lost my balance, landing on my side on the hard black pavement. Dread coiled at the pit of my stomach while the radiating hot tar kissed my skin. I could hear snickering as the bike gang went along their way, ignoring the predicament they placed me in. I sighed, noticing the gentle rumble signifying a car coming my way.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

I was oddly calm as a warmth I've never felt before spread throughout my limbs, shimmering under my skin.

As the car hurtled toward me with terrifying speed, a surge of adrenaline flooded my veins, amplifying every sensation to a fever pitch. In that final, heart-stopping moment, I closed my eyes instinctively, bracing for the impact that would shatter the fragile barrier between life and oblivion.

The cacophony of screeching tires and blaring horns ceased abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence that enveloped me like a suffocating shroud. The rush of wind from passing vehicles dissipated into stillness, leaving only the faint echo of my own panicked breaths hanging in the air. Until that too became dull.

I waited, body tense, for five, ten, thirty seconds before opening my eyes. Using the muted sound of my breaths as a sign of safety. Goosebumps spread as I viewed my surroundings at the all too familiar scene.

So It’s like a defense mechanism, I thought, raising my right arm to eye level. Using my left hand I grabbed some loose asphalt, gently juggling the black rocks in between my fingers. Feeling confident I threw the asphalt in a nonchalant manner towards a nearby vehicle, and to my curiosity it froze midair as soon as it left my hand.

I can work with this, I smiled.

Slowly, I got myself to my feet. Dusting off any asphalt residue that had caught onto my clothes. I wanted to test out more of my theories but something out in the distance took my attention away, placing my earlier curiosity in the back burner.

A smirk overtook my face as I jogged my way up the frozen highway. It seemed eerily quiet as the scene before me made it look like a traffic jam. Ideas came to me like rainfall. Numerous with limitless possibilities. My hands couldn't help but rub together in ecstasy. Yet, as I was just a foot away from my first act I stopped. To my bewilderment my feet could not, would not, take another step. Causing me to look down in confusion.

Why aren't my feet moving?

My sneakers were grey and tattered, a mark of my substandard upbringing. My black socks visible through parts of the worn out fabric. I've had and seen these pair of shoes for years, given to me by Tristan who received it by some random small, pre-owned, second handed, care center. Just thinking about how excited Tristan was for finding me a pair of worn out shoes makes my teeth grit.

I took my eyes off my filthy appearance, setting them on the biker before me. That all just raised the feeling of loathe further. The bike itself was worth several hundred Northern paperbacks, clearly electric. His clothes were fresh and new, without stain, or tears. Shoes were worn but not even close to the level mine are currently. He wore chains of gold and silver, hair well kept, skin without blemish. How can a person who has everything have the audacity to be so indifferent to those that have nothing at all.

‘Scrub, I’ll make yer a deal. I, Robert, will take ye under me wing, but promise me this. Ye will never, ever, stain ye hands as I have mine’

My hands, which previously shook in anger, went slack. As a promise made years ago came to mind. In stubbornness I kicked the lead biker's front wheel into a different angle, away from the road in case of an unlucky turn of events. Once the deed was done I snapped his necklaces off his neck, stuffing them into my back pocket as I started to take a few steps back.

I felt a sudden drain of energy first, as deep as the marrow in my bones. A push of force into the world around me, causing the slow then rapid acceleration of my surroundings. My legs felt like jelly once I reached the top of the hill that overlooked the highway. A rare smile plastered on my face as I heard a crashing commotion below.

It's going to be very interesting from now on.