Time will run out
The Pocket Watch
So I guess the lesson you learn from this is that you should never trust pocket watches. Like, ever.
I’m sitting in my living room, curled up beneath a blanket, a mug of hot chocolate in my hands. Old home movies are playing on the TV, embarrassing things that will no doubt be used to blackmail Mauve and I in the future. But I couldn’t care less.
Mauve is right beside me. She didn’t fall into a coma, she didn’t die, but she did somehow figure out the pocket watch thing.
“I had the weirdest dream when I was in the hospital, you know,” she says one night, giving me a knowing, sly, grin. “I dreamt that the pocket watch legend was real, and that you went through loads of stuff to save me. Stopped a bus crash, a fire at the library, and kept The Halloween Hoax from sinking.”
I laugh and shake my head, “what a strange dream.”
“Yeah, see, I thought so too. But then I went to the library and asked a librarian there, Mr. Keskov, if he had seen a girl in the breakroom recently. And gosh, Cadie, the funniest thing happened,” she says sarcastically, “he said yes! And he told me what happened and it was exactly what happened in my dream.”
She leans forwards and picks up the pocket watch that’s sitting on my bedside table. “It’s real, isn’t it?”
I nod, slowly. Wide eyed and amazed that she managed to figure it out.
“Ha!” she shouted, jumping up. “I knew it Cadie, I just knew it! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you did all that!”
“Yeah, me neither,” I say, giggling.
“And oh goodness, finger guns? Really?” she shouts.
I cringe, “do you have to bring that up?” I ask.
“Do I have to? Oh yes, I do. In fact, I think I’m going to hold it over your head for the rest of your life.”
Who would’ve thought it. Dorky, Acardia Ryan. Normal, average, quite, me. Became the hero known as Finger Guns and Fire Girl, a well known, and idolized superhero.
Okay, maybe that last bit was an exaggeration. Or maybe even a total lie. But who cares, I still did something. Sure, no one knows about it, but a lot of people are alive today because of me.
Mauve glances over at me, “merry Christmas, Cadie.”
“Merry Christmas, Mauve,” I say, turning back to the home movie. One of Mauve and I when we were four, taken on Christmas day.
I did it, I stopped three disasters, and I saved her. And hey, I might be a hero and all now, but I’m definitely using this as leverage for the rest of our lives.
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