thirteen seconds
_
I have thirteen seconds before I kill him.
He started it.
He had to sit opposite me and make eye contact. He could have looked away, he should have looked away but he didn’t, he made eye contact, and then he sneezed.
And I know it’s my fault.
It’s my poison creeping through his body. It’s burned the chambers of my heart til they’re withered and curled and now it’s reaching out for him. I have to work fast to save him, thirteen seconds is all I have. It’s all we have. It’s everything.
Go.
Keep my feet clenched together, don’t let them slip, don’t let them move. Click my teeth together twice, don’t let him hear, click my teeth together twice and clench my feet together and reach a hand into my hair. If I always take it from the nape of my neck no-one will notice, I don’t think they notice, they haven’t noticed.
Have they noticed?
Pull hard. Yank it out of my scalp and the sharp sweet shock will bring release, bring it all back in line; bring me back in line; bring me back.
Ten seconds.
Slide my sharp nail along the hair shaft and feel the pressure sigh out of me. Keep going. Watch the fiery strand curl into itself, a spiky ball of defiance and defence, absorbing all my poison and diluting my fear, strand by strand. I pinch the ball of hair between shaking fingertips and place it with the others in my coat pocket; an army prepared for battle.
Three seconds left. Just in time.
If I look out the window of the tram they won’t notice me again, they won’t make eye contact, they won’t get sick from me. Don’t look at me, don’t look at me. You don’t want to see this. I’m almost home, I can almost breathe, one hand on the army in my pocket and the sourness of fear on my tongue. Maybe I should get off the tram and walk, maybe the tram will crash, I’m going to make the tram crash just by thinking this; get off the tram. Stay on the tram. Get off the tram. Keep my feet clenched together, don’t let them slip, don’t let them move or the tram will crash.
Press my feet together.
I say the letters over and over in my head, feel the weight of them on my tongue. The O and the C and the D, again and again and again. I try to swallow but they refuse to tumble down my throat. I try not to choke on them. I think for the thousandth time how unfair it is for the letters not to be in alphabetical order and find my hands snaking into my hair as I say them again. The O and the C and the D.
My eyes are focused on the condensation on the window and I can’t catch my ragged breath. And then I see the reflection of a passenger, see her gaze flick to my necklace and back to my face and though it’s brief, it’s enough to kill her. She glances back down at her book but the poison has begun to darken her with my stain. My hands reach for the nape of my neck before I can stop them.
I can never stop them.
I have thirteen seconds before I kill her.
Go.
He started it.
He had to sit opposite me and make eye contact. He could have looked away, he should have looked away but he didn’t, he made eye contact, and then he sneezed.
And I know it’s my fault.
It’s my poison creeping through his body. It’s burned the chambers of my heart til they’re withered and curled and now it’s reaching out for him. I have to work fast to save him, thirteen seconds is all I have. It’s all we have. It’s everything.
Go.
Keep my feet clenched together, don’t let them slip, don’t let them move. Click my teeth together twice, don’t let him hear, click my teeth together twice and clench my feet together and reach a hand into my hair. If I always take it from the nape of my neck no-one will notice, I don’t think they notice, they haven’t noticed.
Have they noticed?
Pull hard. Yank it out of my scalp and the sharp sweet shock will bring release, bring it all back in line; bring me back in line; bring me back.
Ten seconds.
Slide my sharp nail along the hair shaft and feel the pressure sigh out of me. Keep going. Watch the fiery strand curl into itself, a spiky ball of defiance and defence, absorbing all my poison and diluting my fear, strand by strand. I pinch the ball of hair between shaking fingertips and place it with the others in my coat pocket; an army prepared for battle.
Three seconds left. Just in time.
If I look out the window of the tram they won’t notice me again, they won’t make eye contact, they won’t get sick from me. Don’t look at me, don’t look at me. You don’t want to see this. I’m almost home, I can almost breathe, one hand on the army in my pocket and the sourness of fear on my tongue. Maybe I should get off the tram and walk, maybe the tram will crash, I’m going to make the tram crash just by thinking this; get off the tram. Stay on the tram. Get off the tram. Keep my feet clenched together, don’t let them slip, don’t let them move or the tram will crash.
Press my feet together.
I say the letters over and over in my head, feel the weight of them on my tongue. The O and the C and the D, again and again and again. I try to swallow but they refuse to tumble down my throat. I try not to choke on them. I think for the thousandth time how unfair it is for the letters not to be in alphabetical order and find my hands snaking into my hair as I say them again. The O and the C and the D.
My eyes are focused on the condensation on the window and I can’t catch my ragged breath. And then I see the reflection of a passenger, see her gaze flick to my necklace and back to my face and though it’s brief, it’s enough to kill her. She glances back down at her book but the poison has begun to darken her with my stain. My hands reach for the nape of my neck before I can stop them.
I can never stop them.
I have thirteen seconds before I kill her.
Go.
