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Two Days Time

What would you do if you found out the exact moment you were going to die?

By Gabbie SpeirsPublished 5 months ago 5 min read
Two Days Time
Photo by Akram Huseyn on Unsplash

“That party was wild! Crissy, do we have to go home?” Sally slurred as we walked home. It was almost 4am, she was so drunk and we knew her parents would kill her, being only 16.

“Yes, sweetie. I think its time for bed for you.” I said, holding her upright whilst trying to walk us both.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Boy, I can't see!” she slurred again, almost stumbling over.

We got to Sally's door and I got us in and put her to bed, locking the door and replacing the key under the pot.

I walked for a while before I went home myself. This town was safe enough for literally anybody to be out at this time. It's one of the few things I'd miss when leaving for college. Your typical suburban small town; white picket fences on almost every house, rose bushes and Prius's everywhere. The stars were shining so bright, you almost didn't need the street lights to find your way home.

I was getting tired so I decided to cut through the cemetery as it was quicker to get home. I walked past our ancestors, younger locals and my own family members until I saw a name I instantly recognised – Christine Anne Goldberg.


What was my name doing on a gravestone? And why was the death date two days from now?

I went home, telling myself that I was imagining it all, to sleep it off and that I must've had too much to drink.

I woke up the next day with a slight headache but complete recall of the nights events; only one part I could really think about. I had to tell someone...

I called Damien, my best friend, the only person who wouldn't think I was crazy, and explained what I saw. The first thing he said was “I'll pick you up and we'll have a look.”

I hopped in the shower, got dressed and heard him beeping outside. My parents were away on business trips this weekend so I didn't have them to contend with, thankfully.

“Shall we stop off and get some food first? I'm so hungry!” I asked and got a nod in response.

After feeding time, we drove over to the cemetery, to find my gravestone. Damien kept glancing sideways at me, obviously to check to see whether I was freaking out or not – which I was but only on the inside.

As we turned the corner approaching the cemetery, a car came from out of nowhere, swerving towards us. Damien slammed on the brake so hard I nearly flew out of my seat.

Was this a warning? I hoped it was just a bad dream, and that it was just all in my head. I can't die in two days... I haven't graduated, or gone to college!

“I really hope it isn't there, that I was just way more drunk than I thought I was.” I said to Damien, walking through all the headstones towards the supposed site of my own.

“Me too, you're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you Cris.” he replied, with what looked like a tear in his eye.

I stopped and gave him a hug. We had been best friends since kindergarten. No wait, since before that. Our mom's were in the same birthing classes, so they became friends before we were born, which inevitably made us friends before we were born. Safe to say I've known Damien a very long time. He's the only person I trust with this kind of stuff.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. It wasn't a dream and I wasn't drunk.

“It's real.” we harmonise in a whisper.

“But how can it be in two days? Are you sick and haven't told me? No, your mom would've told my mom and told me! Oh my god, I'm not letting you out of my sight for the next two days. When the clock strikes midnight on Tuesday I'll know you're gonna be alright.”

“Dame, breathe. I'll be fine!”

“Clearly not! This is not something I'm willing to gamble Cris, I'm staying with you for the next two days, okay?” he gave me his don't argue with me or there will be dire consequences face.

“Okay, fine. We'll do our usual sleepover? But longer...” I sighed deeply. I had no clue what to do...

We spent the rest of the day, and night, binge watching Netflix, baking and laughing at memories. Like when we both had our tonsils out within a few days of each other and the teachers at school thought we were just skipping class together. Or like when we destroyed his mom's cabinet to attempt to build a tree-house.

We woke up the next morning, huddled to our own sides of the bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. After what felt like an eternity, Dame sat up and asked, “Are you scared?”

I wasn't sure how to respond. I was petrified of what might happen, of how my parents would feel, but I felt so safe with him. “A little.” I said as I sat up. “I know that you will do whatever you can to keep me safe, and I love you for it.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek and saw one down his as well. “Hey, I'll be fine! I've got you, remember?”

“I hope so Cris, I really do.” he said, wiping the lone tear away. “Anyway, want some breakfast? I saw pancake mix in the cupboard last night.”

“Heck yes, last one down has to make the coffee!”

We went about our day as if nothing had happened. We hung out with our friends, finished our homework and went to the drive-in to see 101 Dalmatians. As we pulled back up the drive to my house, I got a text from my mom – hey honey, we've got to stay a few extra days at the conference, I'm sending you an extra $200 just in case, love you sweetie xxxxx – and said to Damien, “Sweet, free house for another few days!” and put my hand out for a high five, which was given almost straight away. We ordered pizza, watched a couple of scary movies then went to sleep.

As the alarm woke me up, a feeling of dread crept over my entire body, paralysing me. I burst in to tears, like I knew something bad was going to happen. Damien tried to comfort me, and it worked a bit; it got me up and dressed.

We got in the car to leave and pick some friends up along the way. We pulled up over the road from Sally's house, and because she wasn't answering her phone, I got out of the car to see what was happening. I started crossing the road and


About the Creator

Gabbie Speirs

I write fantastical short stories that keep you coming back for more

Engish writer, world lover

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