Red Light

The weekend starts like usual- the only difference is me. I am in anxiety mode because this week is when the impending fatal tragedy happens. My mind is a whirlwind of dread and desperation as I wrestle with thoughts and scenarios of what I should do and could do. 

This morning after breakfast, Mom asks me to accompany her to the cleaners to pick up Dad's suits. The drive starts uneventfully, the way most errands do when my mom is behind the wheel. She's humming softly to some tune on the radio, a melody that feels warm and familiar. I don't know the song, but it wraps around me like a safety net. Or at least it tries to. My heart is pounding too hard to let me enjoy it. 

I glance at her, wondering if she can sense the storm brewing inside me. She doesn't seem to notice. Her hands are steady on the wheel, her posture relaxed, completely unaware that I'm clutching the door handle like it's the only thing keeping me from unraveling. 

"Are you alright, Megs? You've been awfully quiet," she says, her eyes darting to me for a moment before returning to the road. 

I nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." 

She hums in acknowledgment, but I can tell she's not convinced. She knows me too well to buy a half-hearted excuse like that. Still, she doesn't push, and I'm grateful for it. The truth isn't something I can explain, not in any way that wouldn't make me sound insane. 

I'm counting down the days. Seven days. Seven days until the accident that takes her and Avrielle away from me. Seven days until my world is ripped apart. But I am freaking out here- like what if the cosmic energies sense what I am about to do and stop the chain I am about to break and decide to speed up the process and make the accident happen earlier? Like shifting metaphysical energy. But what is me saving them was always meant to happen and the universal energy balances accordingly? 

Changing the past might disrupt the natural flow and interconnected events have a 'karmic' balance. What if I unbalance the recalibration? 

God, where is Doctor Strange, the movie when you need it? 

In the future, that's where. 

My nerves are wrecked. My hands tremble even in stillness, and every sound sets my heart racing. It's not just fear- it's a suffocating weight of anticipation and the feeling of helplessness. 

We come to a stop at an intersection, and the light turns red. My mom takes the opportunity to glance at me again. "Are you sure everything's okay? You've been so jumpy lately. And Avrielle says you have been asking her about her whereabouts, all week." 

I swallow hard, my chest tightening at the mention of my twin. "I've just…been busy. You know, with classes and stuff." 

She frowns slightly, but the light turns green, and she lets it go as the car rolls forward. My stomach churns. I feel like a ticking time bomb, every second bringing me closer to something I can't stop. 

And then it happens. 

A car on the opposite side of the road barrels through a red light, cutting across our lane. My mom slams on the brakes, and the car jerks violently, throwing me against the seatbelt, and my breath catches in my throat. 

"Damn idiot," my mom mutters, shaking her head as the other car speeds away. She asks me if I was okay before continuing down the street. 

But I can't steady myself. My chest feels like it's caving in, and my hands tremble as I grip the edge of the seat. 

"Megara, are you alright?" she asks, glancing at me with wide eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

I don't answer. I can't. The panic is too overwhelming, the memory of their accident crashing over me like a tidal wave. My mind is a chaotic mess of images: shattered glass, crumpled metal, flashing lights. 

Did the universe just try to take me and Mom instead of Avrielle and Mom because of my interference? 

"Meg!" Her voice sharpens, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. She pulls the car over to the side of the road and puts it in park, turning to face me fully. "What's going on with you? This isn't normal." 

I shake my head, trying to find words that won't reveal the truth. "I-I'm fine. It just scared me, that's all. That car came out of nowhere." 

Her brows knit together in concern, but irritation seeps into her tone. "You're acting like the world's about to end. It's not the first time someone's run a red light, Meg. You've been jumpy like this for days- weeks, now. What's going on? Or are you going to say it's that dream again?" 

I stare at her, my throat tightening. How can I tell her? How can I possibly explain that I'm not overreacting, that I'm terrified because I know what's coming? That in a week, this car ride, this moment, won't matter anymore because she won't be here to remind me to breathe? 

But I can't. I can't say any of that. So, I shake my head again, my voice barely a whisper. "It's the dream, Mom. I'm sorry. I just…I don't feel well." 

She sighs, her irritation softening into something closer to worry. "Alright. Let's get you home. Maybe you just need some rest. Baby, I think you should see someone. You should be able to tell what's a dream from reality Megara. I do not understand this with you. You are so shaken up by this. I'm worried, your father is worried- Megs we are all so worried. Dr. Marcus does wonderful work you know. I..." Her voice fades away because I have had it with her and this bragging about therapy works. It doesn't. 

God, Mom, and her therapy. When I cried because I had grown so accustomed to Avrielle, she took me to a therapist and swore by her. The fact remains, it was not therapy I needed, I had just grown accustomed to my twin by my side for everything. Her not being there was like half of me was gone. 

Avrielle and I both admitted we felt that way and we worked through it. Then she died. And took Mom with her. 

The rest of the drive is silent, tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud. I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, hyperaware of every car, every pedestrian, every tiny movement. My mom tries to hum along to the radio again, but it doesn't sound the same. I know I've shaken her, and it makes me feel even worse. 

When we pull into the driveway, I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of the car as quickly as I can. My legs feel unsteady beneath me, but I force myself to keep moving. Did I already begin to alter events? I don't remember mom ever mentioning near-fatal accidents in the days before- relax, I tell myself. It was just someone running a red light and Mom wasn't even driving, technically. The car was coasting. 

Inside, I collapse onto the couch, my head falling into my hands. I can hear my mom moving around the kitchen, the familiar clatter of pots and pans soothing in a way I don't deserve. 

I need to figure this out. I need to stop Avrielle from coming home next weekend. I need to find a way to keep them both safe without sounding like a lunatic. But how? 

My mom peeks her head into the living room, her eyes still clouded with concern. "Do you want some tea or something? Maybe it'll help calm your nerves." 

I manage a small smile, my voice weak. "Sure. Thanks, Mom." 

She nods and disappears back into the kitchen, and I let out a shaky breath. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to save them. How do you even begin to save people from a tomorrow only you remember? 

All I know is that I have to try.