Over & Over
[ONESHOT] Over & OverHe awoke to a sudden chill and squinted at the clock perched haphazardly at the edge of the bedside table. 6.59am. He groaned, sulking that he was up before his alarm, which blared a minute later.
He kicked his blanket away and a wave of cold air enveloped him immediately, which made him want to return to the warmth of his bed instead getting ready for work.
He shuffled towards the bathroom, nearly tripping over something in the darkness and reached for the lights. “,” he muttered when the lights failed to come on and the hot water tap ran cold.
The electricity disruption was the least of his concerns, he realised, when his car sputtered pathetically and fell silent, its driver equally still as he stared on in bewilderment. Did someone kick over his pot of luck?
With his briefcase in one hand and his coat in the other and the warm toast between his lips, he made a cautious dash along the icy sidewalk for the bus stop, almost slipping a few times.
It was a struggle to eat and wear his coat and tie in the tight confines of the crowded bus and he tried his best not to inconvenience others but alas, there were some who just don’t care. He almost dropped his half-eaten bread on the lap of the woman seated in front of him when someone roughly made their way down the bus.
He checked his watch and sighed. He was clearly not going to be in his office seat by nine and his pace slowed since the power walk from the bus stop. The scent of coffee and the fierce protest from his stomach drew him to the breakfast stand by the closed fountain.
If he was already late, what would few more minutes be?
“This is not happening.” He grabbed at the bottom of his pocket and failed to produce his wallet. He tilted his head back and stared at the cold, grey sky, its clouds threatening to snow soon. He patted the pocket again, and grunted, “Yeap, this is happening.”
His morning couldn’t get any worse, he figured, walking towards his office building with a hand over his stomach to suppress the growling. As he neared the entrance, a woman stood out among the black and grey business suits, clad in a grey hoodie and dark skinny jeans with heavy boots.
He looked away awkwardly when he was caught staring and the woman walked up to him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t go to work.”
“Excuse me?” He was puzzled. The woman stood a few inches shorter than him and her ash blond hair under her hoodie covered most of her eyes, leaving her with a mysterious aura as her lips moved again.
“Your office on the 5th floor,” she said, her voice gravely serious. “You shouldn’t be there.”
“How did you know I work on the 5th floor?”
She sighed, “Because we have this conversation every day before you die in that office.”
If he was curious a while ago, now he was spooked. “You have a good day, ma’am,” he said curtly.
Not satisfied with his answer she followed him all the way into the lobby, yanking him around by his arm. “Listen to me, Henry,” she pleaded.
He felt a chill run down his spine in his heavy winter coat, in the warm lobby as he twisted out of her grasp, stunned that the woman knew his name and his workplace. “I’m warning you, miss, I will have the security drag you out.”
“Henry, please--” she stopped when two security men arrived, peering at her in interest.
“Is there a problem?” the taller man questioned.
Henry turned to her, still weary about the woman’s motive and he was absolutely sure that he’d never seen nor spoken to her before today. He wished to know more but he was late, and he may no longer see his name under the ASSISTANT MANAGER door sign if he doesn’t get his to the office now. “No, we’re fine.”
The strange woman got pushed to the back of his mind when he arrived at the office where a tense air had befallen over the usual chatter and he questioned the secretary with a raised eyebrow.
“You know the janitor who manages our floor?” He nodded and Stephanie continued, jabbing a finger at the manager’s closed office doors. “He was laid off a few days ago but came back asking for another chance.”
“But we’re not the HR department,” his voice low, and he jumped at the sudden gunshot.
“Nobody move!” A man came into view, an arm slung around the manager’s neck, whose panic stricken eyes strained to see the gun pressed at the side of his head.
“How do you decide who to layoff?” the man sobbed, eyes wild as he looked around the office, men and women alike watched him in fear, afraid that he might open fire at anyone of them.
“I need this job. I need to pay for my sister’s tuition,” he mumbled. “She needs me.”
“Donghae right?” Henry held his hands up when the janitor whirled around with a gun pointed at him, while Stephanie tugged his shirt to get him to stop.
“Who are you!”
“I’m the assistant manager. We can talk about getting your job back if you would just put down your gun,” Henry said calmly, even though his heart is ready to leap out of his chest. “You’re at the finance department. I can take you to the HR where they can help you.”
“No, it’s you finance people that want to cut cost!” Donghae waved his gun at him. “If you didn’t send no order, I wouldn’t be fired! It’s because of you!”
“Donghae, lis--”
Henry choked when the bullet hit him in the chest and he sank to the floor as chaos erupted around him. Unexpectedly, he was reminded of the woman’s words as his vision blurred.
You’d never come out alive.
He felt his body fall over the edge and jerked awake.
He stared at ceiling in his dark bedroom and turned his head to the side. The clock sat at the edge of the bedside table and its minute and hour hands told him it was 6.59am.
His day did not start well. He nearly tripped on his way to the bathroom, only to find out that the electricity wasn’t working, and his car had failed to start and his wallet was stolen, presumably when someone bumped into him on the bus.
He headed to his office building with a whining stomach and his pace slowed when a woman appeared behind the wave of office workers, her slim figure moving through the crowd as lithe as a cat. Stray strands of her ash blond hair fluttered in the cold November wind, and her cheeks spotted a lovely pink tint, complementing her red full lips.
She stood in front of him and their eyes locked onto each others.
“Hear me out, Henry,” she spoke clearly, as if appealing to a part of him that he didn’t know.
His lips parted in surprise. “How did you know my name?”
“That’s not important.” Her voice stern. “What’s important is that you’ll die if you step into your office.”
“W-what?” he stammered, followed by a nervous laugh. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Where you die and relive the day and die again, an endless loop with no end in sight. Yeah, it’s some kind of sick joke.” Her laugh was empty and bitter. “At least you don’t remember the details,” she added wistfully.
“You’re crazy,” he muttered, and moved around her, mentally scolding himself for being captivated by her beauty and not recognizing the signs of a stalker.
But he grew confused when everything she said became reality.
The ex-janitor came in threatening to kill the manager if his request to restore his job wasn’t met. While Henry persuaded the man to think twice about his actions, he drew closer and waited for an opportunity to disarm him. But in the ensuing tussle, several rounds were fired and it left Henry mortally wounded.
The office was like a scene in a silent movie, people screamed and shouted but he couldn’t hear anything. His senses felt numb but even then he could tell that his life was draining away.
His heavy eyelids lifted. He watched the shadow of the tree branches dance across the ceiling as it swayed in the wind outside his window.
“6.59,” he muttered, and checked the clock. He was right.
He wasn’t sure how he knew or even explain the odd feeling of deja vu when he arrived at his office building later, his attention immediately drawn to the woman standing by the revolving doors.
She appeared to be in her mid twenties and he guessed that she doesn’t work here, considering that her choice of outfit was more appropriate for college. Her brows knitted together in a frown and her lips remained set in a straight line while she observe the crowd, as if her friend had made her wait hours for them.
Somehow she felt familiar to him. Even though he doesn’t know her.
He swore a look of recognition registered over her bare face when their eyes met briefly as he strode past her into the building. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he must know her from somewhere.
He stopped, feeling compelled to talk to her and turned back, equally surprising the woman and himself.
“Have we met?” he asked, and received an unexpected response: A smile. Although it disappeared as soon as it surfaced, her entire face lit up and her features softened, appearing less angry and distant.
“We’ve met many times,” she answered. The woman’s intense gaze made him blush and he overheard her murmur in amazement, “This has never happened before.”
“So we’re friends?”
“We’re not friends, Henry,” she said, then added as if she expected his question. “I know your name because we talk. We talked everyday before you enter the office to face your death. And the day will repeat over and over again, and you and everybody,” she spread her arms around her, “don’t have a single clue about this endless loop.”
He frowned. “But you know?”
“Because my memories remained,” she snarled. “I watch the day repeat itself, watching events repeat itself until I can remember them by heart.” She pointed behind him. “That woman will trip over her broken heel.”
It happened like she said it would and listed further examples which left him stunned. “The postman’s cart will overturn when i--.”
He raised his hand to stop her. “Okay, I get it.”
“No, Henry, you don’t get it, you will never get it,” the woman sighed. “You will never understand what it feels like to be helpless in this neverending cycle.”
“I’ve tried committing suicide, I’ve moved to another city, I’ve reported to the police, I’ve hidden the gun,” her voice quivered, and she pressed the back of her hand against . “I’ve warned you countless time and told you everything that I know but it all ends the same. The fates of everyone has been established.”
She met his gaze, held it and didn’t let go. “You die. And the day starts all over again.”
“There are only so many times I can go through this before it drives me insane,” she paused. Tears began to well up in her eyes. “I’m not dead, but it feels like I already am. I can’t move forward with my life. Whatever I do returns to square one. It’s hopeless.”
He didn’t know why he subjected himself to her mad ramblings but something told him that he should listen. “You mentioned that you hid the gun,” Henry said, then added cautiously. “Do you know the shooter?”
She angrily wiped her tears from her face. “My brother was a janitor at this building until he lost his job a week ago. He thinks that by going in there with a gun would get his job back.”
“Did you tell him about this?”
“My words can’t get through his guilt-ridden mind. I told you, I’ve tried everything.”
“Are you sure?”
She blinked. “Your survival is the most important factor in this puzzle. You’re the only one who can change the outcome.”
“How do you know it’s me? It could be anyone. It could even be you.” He leaned in and added, “There must be a reason why you’re the only person with memories of these repeating events.”
He took her silence as a sign that she was contemplating over the idea but her lips pressed into a thin line. “Your death resets the game,” she insisted. “You’re the key.”
Her words echoed in his ears when he stepped into the office and headed to Stephanie’s desk.
“Call the police, we have a situation involving an emotionally unstable ex-employee with a gun.” The secretary widened her eyes in alarm and Henry placed her hand on the phone receiver. “Do it now. Then get these people out as quietly as possible.”
As he walked towards the manager’s office, he reached for his hand and recalled the conversation just as he was about to step into the elevator minutes ago.
“Henry,” the ash blond reached for him, effectively stopping him as he looked down at their hands to which she quickly drop them. “I don’t want to go through another today,” she whispered amid the curious glances from the other elevator riders. “Please.”
If they weren’t strangers, Henry would’ve comforted her with a hug that says everything will be okay.
“Even if the day repeats itself, don’t lose hope. Hopelessness will only bring you down. Believe in yourself. You’re more capable than you think.” He held her gaze and realized he was missing an important detail.
“I never got your name,” he said.
He never once asked for her name in their previous interactions and she thought this time wouldn’t be any different. “Amber,” she swallowed, still feeling awkward with his encouragement. “My name is Amber.”
“Well, Amber, you need only to tell me this for me to believe you the next time we meet,” he paused, chuckled at the thought then continued. “I never told anyone this but I once practised kissing with a drawer knob.”
“You’re ting me.”
He took a step back into the elevator. “No, I’m not,” he said and the doors closed at her astounded face.
Half of the office had filed out when a gunshot rang and people screamed and ducked as a second shot fired into the ceiling. “Get down!” Donghae shouted, his arm kept tightly around the manager’s neck. “Nobody leaves until you give me my job back!”
Henry had a plan. It involves gaining the man’s trust and disarming him with words, coaxing him out of doing something that he would regret. But if Amber knew what he was planning, she’d never agree because it was against her idea of laying low.
“Hey,” Henry tensed when the man turned around with his gun aimed at him. “I was fired too.”
“You too?” Donghae’s gaze softened, as if he had found a comrade in battle.
Henry looked around and kicked a random box near his feet. “Yeah, they called me in today to grab my stuff.”
Donghae tightened his grip around the poor manager and jabbed the gun at his temple. “Do you think you can just fire anyone? We need to earn a living too!” he raged, and turned to Henry. “Man, we’ve to stick togethe--”
“Oppa.”
Donghae’s attention flickered to the person behind Henry. “What are you doing here?”
Henry’s ears perked up and he turned around slowly to find Amber standing in the middle of the office. What are you doing? he mouthed but she ignored him.
“I told you, oppa will settle this,” Donghae said, his voice suddenly gentler in his sister’s presence. “I told you to stay home.”
“Oppa, stop this. The police will be here soon,” she drew closer with an open palm. “So give me the gun.”
“No, no.” Her brother shook his head wildly. “I need to get my job back, I need to earn money to put you through college.”
“Oppa,” her voice strained. “Oppa, please just hand me the gun. Everything will be alright.”
“You don’t understand, Amber.” Donghae shook the man in his arms. “This man will make things right again if he gives me my job back. Then you don’t have to worry about tuition.”
“Listen to me, oppa,” Amber was already at her brother’s side, a hand lowering the gun from the manager’s head. “Tuition is the least of my problems now. I’ve told you,” she tried easing the gun from his grip. “If someone dies today, nothing else matters because the day only repeats itself. I won’t be able to study as you fervently wish for me to do.”
“You won’t be able to study?” Donghae repeated in a daze, and allowed her to take the gun away. Amber let out a sigh of relief and checked on Henry from the corner of her eyes. “I told you to lay low,” she hissed at him.
“No, Amber, you must study or else you’d end up like me in a low paying job.” Donghae released the manager and grabbed her by her arms, his behaviour seized by hysteria. “You must get an university education! You must excel or you’ll be fired too like this man.” The panic behind Donghae’s bloodshot eyes was replaced by confusion.
“This man, you..” Donghae mumbled, a spark of recognition grew in his eyes that later turned into anger. “You’re the assistant manager!”
“I’m sorry that you were let go. I truly am sorry,” Henry explained quickly, casting a nervous glance at Amber who scattered the gun parts across the room, tugging her sleeve for her attention.
Donghae threw his arm across the nearest desk in rage, sending its contents onto the floor. They watched as he got on his knees and searched through the scattered stationery before picking up a sculpted letter opener.
“You filthy liar!’ Donghae shouted, swinging the sharp end of the letter opener in Henry’s direction.
“No!”
Her brother watched in horror as the blade rise and fall along with her breathing, its body lodged in her abdomen and blood began to seep into her hoodie around the wound.
Amber gasped. Her shaking hands wrapped around the handle to pull it out but Henry stopped her, leaning her body straight against his to prevent her from further aggravating the wound.
“There’s a letter opener sticking out of my body,” Amber said quietly, turning up to look at him.
“No, don’t move,” he instructed, and yelled for someone to call for emergency services. "You'll be alright," he muttered in her ear, his fingers dancing around the stab wound, unsure how to deal with the bleeding, which had soaked through her hoodie.
Amber felt numb. She couldn’t feel any pain. As the paramedics rushed her out on the stretcher, she saw her brother’s blurred figure, pinned down on the floor by a police officer, his muted voice crying out for her.
Is it finally all over, she thought and her eyelids fluttered close.
The next time she opened her eyes she found herself in a hospital room, feeling listless from head to toe. To her left, monitors beeped steadily and a drip bag hung over her, its needle secured on the back of her hand with surgical tape. She turned to her right, just as a man entered the room.
“You’re awake.” He smiled, flashing her the beautiful bouquet of pastel tulips. But she was drawn to his fluffy cheeks instead, which she only just noticed.
“Henry,” she croaked, dry from the room’s air. “What happened?”
“The surgery went well. No major damage. Your brother’s being counselled as we speak." He gave her a brief rundown and poured her a cup of water. "That eventful day became yesterday. You made it happen.”
“What do you mean? You, being alive, broke the loop that saved me and my sanity.”
“No,” he said firmly, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You saved yourself.”
“Because your entire focus was on me, you failed to see that you were equally important in the equation.” Amber watched him sit at the edge of her hospital bed and he adjusted the blanket around her. “My fate was to die in that office, and your fate was to save me.”
“That sounded cheesy as hell.” He scrunched his nose in mock disgust. “But wouldn’t that make a great pick-up line in this situation?” She burst out laughing but stopped, remembering her stitches.
“I’ve never been to the office, I didn’t think I could do anything to help. That’s why I’m always downstairs, praying and waiting for a miracle to happen.” Amber looked down at her hands. “But yesterday was a first.”
“If you weren’t at the office, if you didn’t shield me, we wouldn’t be here,” he said, and grinned. “Maybe my pep talk was the little push you needed.”
Amber cracked a smile, and Henry responded with a wider one, once again displaying the cheeks that she’s beginning to grow fond of.
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