High School
1086 Words
Samantha trembled as she woke, her breath coming in short gasps. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar at the same time. She sat up, the bed beneath her soft and worn, and her eyes looked around the room. Posters of her favorite bands lined the walls, their edges curling from age. The desk in the corner was cluttered with notebooks, pens, and textbooks.
“This can’t be real,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
She threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her legs. For a moment, she just stared at them, unsure of what to do. Slowly, she moved her toes, then moved her ankles. She stood cautiously, her muscles weak but functioning. Tears filled her eyes as she took her first steps in what felt like a lifetime.
She stumbled to the mirror on her closet door. The reflection staring back at her was her 17-year-old self, the one she hadn’t seen in over a decade. Her long brown hair was neatly tied in a ponytail, her skin free of the scars she had come to accept as part of her.
“What’s happening?” she muttered, touching her face.
Her gaze shifted to the wristwatch on her arm, the one she had bought at the auction. The hands ticked steadily, as if mocking her confusion.
Before she could make sense of it all, a knock sounded at her door.
“Sam, you’re going to be late!” her mom’s voice called.
Late? For what?
She opened the door hesitantly, and there stood her mother, looking younger and livelier than Sam had seen in years. Her hair was neatly curled, and her smile was as warm as ever.
“Are you feeling okay?” her mom asked, frowning slightly. “You’ve been there forever.”
“I… yeah,” Sam stammered. “Just got distracted.”
“Well, hurry up! Breakfast is on the table.”
Sam nodded, closing the door slowly. Her mind raced. Somehow, she had gone back in time. She was in high school again, her body restored to its former state, and her family unaware of the years that had passed.
---
At breakfast, Sam sat quietly, watching her parents interact. Her dad sipped coffee while flipping through the newspaper, and her mom hummed as she packed lunches. It was like stepping into a memory she hadn’t revisited in years.
Her mom placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “You’re quiet this morning. Everything okay?”
Sam forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about school.”
“Well, eat up,” her dad said without looking up from the paper. “Can’t be late.”
Sam nodded, eating hurriedly. As she lacked an appetite to eat, her mind was too preoccupied with trying to understand the situation.
---
The school building was threatening as Sam approached it, a mix of nerves and sentimental longing in her chest. She stepped through the doors, the familiar smell of enlarged floors and old textbooks hitting her instantly. Students bustled around her, laughing, chatting, and closing lockers.
She walked cautiously down the hallway, her senses overwhelmed. The faces were all familiar, like a yearbook come to life.
And then she saw him.
Chris Morgan stood by a locker, laughing with a group of friends. He had a guitar slung over his shoulder, his shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes. He looked so young, so alive.
Sam’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t seen him like this in years, not since before his fame, before the tragedies that would eventually claim his life.
She wanted to run to him, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to tell him everything. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
As if sensing her gaze, Chris glanced in her direction. For a moment, their eyes met, and Sam froze.
“Hey, new girl?” one of his friends called, waving a hand in front of her face. “Earth to”
“She’s not new,” Chris interrupted, smiling at her. “Sam, right?”
Sam’s heart raced. He remembered her.
“Y-yeah,” she stammered.
Chris’s smile widened. “See you in English class, Sam.”
And with that, he turned back to his friends, leaving her glued to the spot.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sam drifted through his classes, barely paying attention. Her mind was fixated on Chris and the impossible situation she had found herself in.
At lunch, she sat with her old friend Emma, who chattered on about homework and gossip. Sam nodded absently, hee thoughts elsewhere.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked, poking her arm. “You seem… out of it.”
“I’m fine,” Sam replied quickly. “Just tired.”
Emma studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if you’re that tired, maybe you should skip the talent show this Friday. I mean, it’s just going to be Eternal Chords again.”
Sam looked up at the mention of the band. “They’re performing?”
“Of course. Chris is obsessed with this stuff. It’s all he ever talks about.”
Sam’s mind raced. The talent show could be her chance to get closer to Chris, to figure out how to save him.
---
That evening, Sam lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the day were replayed in her mind, her emotions a mix of amazement and anxiety. She had been given a second chance, a chance to save Chris from his future.
But how? She couldn’t just tell him about what she knew. Every time she thought about revealing the truth, a strange sensation gripped her, like time itself resisted the idea.
Her thoughts turned to the watch on her wrist. It had brought her here, but why? Was it some kind of cosmic accident, or was it meant to give her a purpose?
She sighed, rolling to her side. Whatever the reason, she knew she couldn’t waste this opportunity. Chris had saved her once, even if he hadn’t known it. Now, it was her turn to save him.
Tomorrow, she decided, she would start by getting to know him better. She had to find a way into his world.
As she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was of Chris’s smile, the one that had lit up the hallway, oblivious to the darkness that lay ahead.
- Writer
