No Time for Regrets

The car had run out of gas about a mile back, so I had to walk the rest of the way. Not ideal, but I had no choice.

A rumbling sound shook the air from the skies above. It sounded like thunder, but it wasn't. It didn't rain anymore. Not since they arrived.

I walked briskly, keeping my breaths short and my footsteps light. In the distance, I saw the rusted metal sign towering over the side of the highway.

INTERNET CAFE, it read, with the first word in a standard font and the other in a cursive style. A graphic designer's worst nightmare, but to me, it was the most beautiful sign I had ever seen.

I walked through the empty parking lot and stepped through the broken glass doors at the entrance. The place had been cleared out, picked clean by looters.

Past the empty desk and a handful of broken arcade machines, a line of tables sat against the far wall. On the far left side, a computer monitor sat covered in dust.

The grey outer shell had turned a sour shade of yellow over the years. The thick glass screen was covered in a visible layer of dust. The looters probably wrote it off as a glorified paperweight.

I sat down in the plastic chair positioned in front of the table. My eyes wandered down to the computer tower on the floor to my right. It, too, had turned the same shade of grayish-yellow over the years.

My hands shook as I pushed the power button. A brief pause, and then the fans inside whirred to life. The entire thing groaned like an elderly person forced from their slumber.

I turned the monitor on, wiping the dust from the screen as a logo from decades ago flashed on the screen. The desktop was simple, with a default background that depicted a lush green hill and a crisp blue sky.

I couldn't remember the last time I had seen the sun.

An application labeled MESSENGER stood out among the icons that littered the left side of the screen. I double-clicked it, and a window opened.

An error message appeared in red text at the top of the window: NO INTERNET CONNECTION. I ignored it and typed a message into the bottom of the window:

USER1: Are you there?

The error message disappeared, replaced by a new one in blue text: USER2 HAS JOINED.

USER2: Yeah, I'm here.

USER1: We don't have much time. Do you believe me now?

USER2: It happened just like you said it did. Right down to the day and time. I still can't believe it.

My heart weighed heavy in my chest. I knew exactly how he was feeling.

USER1: I'm sorry, I really am.

USER2: I tried my best...

USER1: I know you did.

USER2: It would have been one thing if you sent me winning lotto numbers or warned me about some big disaster, but this? This was too personal to be a coincidence.

USER 1: I'm sorry; I knew it was the only way to convince you.

USER2: Can I ask you something?

USER1: Sure.

USER2: Does it ever stop hurting?

USER1: No, the pain never stops. You get stronger.

USER2: And what about you? Are you happy? Do we ever find happiness?

USER1: We do, but it's short-lived. Trust me, you don't want to suffer like I have.

USER2: Right. So, assuming I believe you, I don't need to ask what happens next, do I?

USER1: No, we covered it the last time we spoke.

USER2: What's going to happen to you? Is it going to hurt?

USER1: I have no idea. I've never done this before.

USER2: Right, of course.

USER1: So, will you do it?

USER2: There's no other way?

USER1: I've tried, trust me.

USER2: Are you scared?

USER1: I'm fucking terrified.

USER2: Well, at least we're on the same page.

USER1: You need to do it now. No more waiting.

USER2: Yeah, I hear you. I'll get it done.

Blue text appeared at the top of the window: USER2 HAS LEFT THE CHAT.

I sat back and let out a long sigh as I shut my eyes—nothing to do now but wait. I started to doze off, falling into a peaceful slumber for the first time in years.

An echo of laughter jolted me awake. The computer in front of me was pristine. Not a spec of dust anywhere on it, like it was brand new.

Another giggle broke the silence. It was charming and full of hope. I stood up and spun around.

Vague silhouettes of people started to form in the space around me, shimmering like mirages in the desert. Children ran past me as adults materialized at the desks.

The stale carpet was suddenly bursting with color. The burned-out light bulbs flickered to life. Computers slowly faded into existence as the staccato of fingers on keyboards filled the air.

The Broken arcade machines in the front lit up with a thousand colors, joyfully filling the space with their chiptune soundtracks.

The entire space was healing. I made my way through the building to the front, pushing open the glass doors and stepping out into a sunny afternoon.

The sky above was a brilliant shade of blue. I felt the sun on my face and couldn't help but smile.

Then, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my fingers.

I looked down at my hands and saw them flickering like a bad television signal. So, this is how it would happen.

Time was like a river, it seemed. Even the largest splash took time to send ripples through the current.

New changes would take hold slowly but surely. The current shifted its course until everything was right again.

I smiled anyway. I had seen enough to know that it worked. I couldn't imagine how he felt in those final moments. Scared, terrified, sure, but maybe hopeful as well?

Like me, he probably spent his final moments thinking about what he wished had been different. As much as I hated the idea of regrets, I knew we both had our fair share.

The feeling of the sun on my skin started to fade. Only the sounds of cars driving by on the highway were left. I tried to open my eyes, but they were gone as well.

This was it. My mind searched frantically for any way to stop the end, but it settled only on a single thought:

I wish I had...