Valery #1

I ripped apart yet another half-draw off of my book as she sat still on the couch. It was ten past nine, as usual. The floor was full of drawings, yet I still failed to capture her very essence, her stillnes, her beauty.

She sat perfectly still. Her mother had just left the room and we were about to kiss for the first time. Or at least we were a very long time ago. The sweat on my hands has already dried, just as my memories of her have started to fade.

Drawing her is what keeps me sane. Lazily, I moved a little to the left and fixed my eyes on the paper. This time the drawing would be perfect. The clock hands sit still at ten past nine, as usual.

It happened a lot of time ago, it's been so long that I have to go out of town to fetch paper for the drawings.

Her mother had just left us, and that was the last visit I was allowed those holidays. We were sitting on the couch, talking about books and school subjects when the pressing thought had come to my mind. It had been three months since we started to go out and I hadn't kissed her. I wanted, but shyness came as natural as breathing to me. What if she didn't like it? What if she wasn't expecting it? What if she thought it was discorteous?

My hands had started to sweat while the sensation grew up on my stomach and the nausea attacked me. There were way too much "What if"s on my head. But I had to do it. I wouldn't see her for two months and it was already ten past nine, my father was to come for me at twenty past nine. I swallowed up the doubts and asked her to close her eyes. I had seen it on a movie, or at least I thought so. Hoping very hard that she would like it, I leaned forward and then it happened. My lips reached hers.

My heart skipped way too many heartbeats. The time seemed to stop the moment our lips were about to touch. Chaos and harmony were two sides of the same coin. My mind was on a full speed race of nothingness. I leaned just a bit more, softly pressing, without any idea of what to do next. Suddenly I stopped moving. She wasn't moving either.

Had she not liked it? Had it seem discorteous? Was I to wait longer and had just dirtied our pure love?

Slowly leaning backwards, with my eyes still closed, those questions crushed. Then, awaiting my judgement, I opened my eyes.

She was still the same. So she had liked it? Maybe she, as I, didn't know what to expect of a kiss. I was about to lean forwards again when I decided it'd be best to check where her mother was. So I looked up my shoulder at the stairs.

Her mother was looking upstairs, her back facing us. I swallowed. This wasn't good at all, she had to had seen us kiss.

I stared, shocked, waiting for her to go upstairs or turn her back against the stairs and face us full of rage.

Nothing happened, nothing at all. I stared back at my girlfriend. Nothing. I didn't move, either. Something had just to be about to start. I placed my hand on hers and waited.

But nothing started. After a few seconds (or minutes) I cleared my throat. Something was evidently wrong. I tried to move her hand but it wouldn't move. Then I called her name. Then I stood up.

Her mother was still looking upstairs, as if about to go up. I called her too. Nothing.

So this was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to me. Not knowing exactly what to do I approached Valery and tried to wake her up. Then, carefully staring at her mother, I checked her breathing.

The skipped beatings came all at once. She wasn't breathing. Horrified I tried to move her and then screamed at her mother to no avail. I had seen how to do mouth to mouth resuscitation but I never thought I'd end up doing it on... and what about her mother? But I had learned from TV that time was critical on this kind of situations, and I loved her, I couldn't let her pass. As fast as I could I phoned emergencies and tried to open her mouth.

Which proved impossible. She wouldn't move. The phone wasn't ringing either. In fact, it was off. I looked at the clock on the wall. Ten past nine. I could probably go to the neighbours house and come back in less than a minute.

As I opened the door a thought came to me. Ten past nine, it was a meaningless thought. I started my run. Time was critical.

I furiously knocked the door and then went in anyways. They would have to understand. I rushed to the dining room to find themost bizarre picture. They were as still as Valery and her mother. In fact, the little boy was holding his cup to his mouth.

As I looked at them in full shock something caught my attention. An old clock in a table, ten past nine.

The time had really stopped.