The Date above Their Heads

The Last Time I Tried

I don’t remember when it started.

Not exactly.

There wasn’t some dramatic moment where everything changed. No sudden shift, no warning, no voice explaining what was happening to me.

It just… appeared.

Quietly.

Like it had always been there.

I was thirteen the first time I noticed it.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, half-listening to my mom talk about something, school, I think, or maybe groceries. It was always something small like that.

Something normal.

Something safe.

She was standing by the sink, sleeves pushed up slightly, her hair tied back in a loose bun that never really stayed in place. Sunlight filtered through the window behind her, catching the edges of her face.

I remember thinking she looked tired.

Not sick.

Not weak.

Just, tired.

“Rachael, are you even listening to me?”

Her voice pulls me back, and I blink, realizing I’ve been staring.

“Yeah,” I mumble, even though I wasn’t.

She sighs softly, shaking her head, but there’s a small smile on her lips.

“Then repeat what I just said.”

I open my mouth.

Pause.

Close it again.

Her smile widens just a little.

“Exactly.”

I huff quietly, looking down at the table, tracing invisible lines on the surface with my finger.

“I was listening,” I mutter.

“Mm-hmm.”

There’s amusement in her voice now.

Warmth.

Comfort.

The kind that makes everything feel, okay.

I don’t look up again right away.

And maybe if I hadn’t,

Maybe things would be different.

But I did.

I looked up.

And that’s when I saw it.

14.07.2023

The numbers floated above her head, faint but clear, like they were part of the air itself.

I frowned slightly.

“What’s that?” I asked without thinking.

She blinked at me. “What’s what?”

I pointed.

“Above your head.”

Her expression shifted, confusion, then mild concern.

“Rachael… there’s nothing there.”

I stared at her.

Then back at the numbers.

Then at her again.

They didn’t move.

They didn’t disappear.

They just… stayed.

I remember laughing.

Not because it was funny.

But because it didn’t make sense.

And when something doesn’t make sense, sometimes your brain tries to turn it into a joke.

“Okay…” I said slowly, dropping my hand. “That’s weird.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, stepping a little closer to me now.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

Too quickly.

I didn’t understand it.

Not then.

Not yet.

But I didn’t forget it either.

I started noticing it more after that.

On strangers.

On teachers.

On people passing by in the street.

Dates.

Always dates.

Some far away.

Some close.

I didn’t tell anyone.

Who would believe me?

I barely believed myself.

But my mom…

Her date stayed in my head.

It wouldn’t leave.

14.07.2023

I checked it again the next day.

Still there.

The same.

Unchanging.

I remember the way my chest felt tight every time I looked at her after that.

The way I started paying attention to everything.

The way she coughed sometimes.

The way she rubbed her temples like she had a headache.

The way she said she was “just tired” more often.

It didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

It felt like a warning.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

And the date got closer.

I didn’t know what it meant.

Not fully.

But deep down,

I think I knew.

I just didn’t want to admit it.

Until the day it finally hit me.

14.07.2023

It was circled on the calendar.

Not by me.

By her.

“Don’t forget,” she said, tapping the date lightly with a pen. “Doctor’s appointment.”

I stared at it.

My heart started pounding.

“Why?” I asked.

She shrugged casually. “Just a check-up.”

Just a check-up.

The words echoed in my head, but they didn’t feel right.

Nothing about this felt right.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about the date.

About the numbers.

About what it could mean.

And then,

It clicked.

Not slowly.

Not gently.

All at once.

A date above someone’s head.

A fixed point.

Unchanging.

Final.

My chest tightened so hard it hurt.

“No,” I whispered into the dark.

No.

That couldn’t be it.

That couldn’t be what it meant.

But I knew.

I knew.

And once I knew…

I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The next morning, I followed her.

She didn’t notice.

She thought I was at school.

I stayed a few steps behind her the whole way, my heart racing with every step.

I didn’t have a plan.

I didn’t know what I was going to do.

I just knew I had to do something.

I couldn’t let that date come true.

I wouldn’t.

She reached the road.

Stopped at the curb.

Waited.

Everything looked normal.

Too normal.

Cars passed.

People crossed.

Nothing happened.

For a second, I thought,

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe

A loud horn shattered the moment.

Everything snapped into place.

A car.

Too fast.

Too close.

Coming straight toward her.

My body moved before I could think.

“Mom!”

I ran.

Faster than I ever had before.

My hand reached for hers,

And grabbed it.

I pulled.

Hard.

Trying to drag her back.

Trying to get her out of the way.

But something went wrong.

I felt it immediately.

The shift.

The imbalance.

The way her body moved differently than I expected.

Her foot slipped off the edge of the curb.

Her grip on me tightened suddenly,

Too suddenly.

“Rachael !”

The world tilted.

The car swerved.

There was a scream,

I don’t know whose.

And then,

Impact.

Everything went quiet after that.

Not completely.

But enough.

Enough that the world felt… distant.

Unreal.

I was on the ground.

My hands were shaking.

My ears were ringing.

I turned my head slowly.

And saw her.

She wasn’t where she had been before.

She was further out into the road.

Closer.

Too close.

Blood.

There was blood.

My chest tightened so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“No…” I whispered.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

I saved her.

I tried to save her.

I,

My eyes lifted.

Slowly.

Unwillingly.

The numbers were gone.

Nothing hovered above her head anymore.

Nothing at all.

And that’s when I understood.

I didn’t change anything.

I didn’t fix it.

I made it worse.