Grabbing her favourite coat, car keys, and her bag of Chinese takeout, Wendy went out for a drive. It wasn't her usual thing, but for some reason she irked to go out of her apartment and drive to see the night life of her town.

 

 

Wendy drove past the playground she used to love when she was in kindergarten; oblivious to the crap administration and cruel world. She also saw the diner her mom worked in and was saddened when she saw the neon sign broken and dull, the windows dusty, and a cardboard with words saying that it was officially out of business.

 

 

"I used to love the pancakes there." The brunette sighed as she stared longingly at the empty diner.

 

 

Wendy then continued the drive around her town. Visiting each sites in this dark and breezy hour with only the light posts giving her a better view of each. She was smiling to herself as she reminisce every memory she had in each place; wishing that she could actually go back time to undo all the stupidity she had done before and redo everything that made her happy. Well, maybe less sad.

 

 

The brunette parked in front of a 24-hour convenience store. She looked at the clock and noticed it was nearing midnight. Wendy glanced at her untouched Chinese takeout and debated if she would eat it, but then she wanted to drive more.

 

 

And so, Wendy drove.

 

 

 

 

As the brunette was driving smoothly, she remembered what her professor discussed earlier. It was about time. It was about time and how it can possibly be just a social construct.

 

 

Wendy liked philosophy and social science, but there's something about the two that frustrates her. Maybe because there are questions on both that are always unanswered and can't be answered by anyone. Except. maybe, the philosophers who manifested them.

 

 

Questions. Wendy was always full of questions. She's a curious student that some of her professors honestly get annoyed whenever she raises her hand to ask one. But that didn't stop her. And the bell that marks her dismissal didn't stop Wendy from thinking about the question all day too.

 

 

She still does. And it frustrates her.

 

 

 

"12:05." Wendy sighed.

 

 

It's almost time for her to go home. She has classes at 10am and sure enough, her professor wouldn't hesitate to give her a demerit if she's late again.

 

 

Time. Time and how fast it passes by frustrates Wendy. Questions derived from its concept keep her awake at night, always. It's exhausting, she thought. It's exhausting that she's wasting a lot of time thinking about how it works and why it's so significant.

 

 

See?

 

 

Wendy can't even think about the concept of time itself without wasting a lot of her precious ‘time’.

 

 

Taking a left back to the empty park she passed by earlier, the brunette stopped. She knew she needed a breather.

 

 

"What if it doesn't exist?" Wendy muttered, passively staring at the numbers flashed by the clock.

 

 

12:24am.

 

 

"What if time doesn't really exist, only clocks do?"

 

 

12:37am, the clock flashes. Wendy shook her head lightly and chuckled. She's thinking too much again and she's not even in philosophy class. Wendy smiled and glanced back at the playground.

 

 

"Maybe time is just a social construct made to let people manage themselves efficiently." The brunette said, "Or to let people know that they can't spend all their life with the same people so they have to cherish their moments with them even in a short period of - "

 

 

Wendy sighed, "…time."

 

 

The brunette chuckled to herself once again and decided to head back to her house. Waking up late and ending up getting a demerit from her professor were the last things Wendy wanted to get. Even if time didn't really matter to her, being punctual is a must for her professors so might as well follow the social reality. Also, she couldn't risk her chances of being a scholar just because of that one demerit for being late.

 

 

 

1:02am.

 

 

She took a turn on Maple St., failing to hear the screech of an over speeding vehicle.

 

 

Crash.

 

 

The dark was still striving but there were less stars shining in the sky than earlier. The quiet Maple St. before 1:02am is now bombarded with noises from the group of police handling the incident and the ambulance from the hospital nearest in the area.

 

 

1:48am.

 

 

An injured man and a critical brunette were brought to the hospital. Cries and shouts from the nurses and doctors were heard. One was shouting that the woman needs serious help and attention.

 

 

3:37am.

 

 

The doctors tried their best, but the brunette lost a lot of blood that made it impossible for them to save her.

 

 

"Time of death: 3:37am." The doctor disappointingly muttered.

 

 

 

 

Time never mattered to Wendy. She was convinced it was just a social construct. But even on her death, it was there, recorded by the doctor.

 

 

Time. It exists even if you don't want to remember all those memories marked by each tick of the clock. It exists even at your death. Moreover, it is recorded.

 

 

 

 

10:02am.

 

An oblivious professor gave Wendy a demerit.

 

***

This is actually the flash fiction I submitted for my creative writing final exam. Comments are highly appreciated.

P.S. I'm sorry if I haven't been writing fanfics for a while now. I'll try to get back on track whenever. I know this is but it's better than nothing.