Split Second Novels & Stories

"He is a bit too eager. I am Antonio-" "Who the hell are you calling eager? You made us run all the way here." Adam snarled, his blue eyes tearing away from me to glare at his brother. I shuddered, looking at Antonio as well. It was quite obvious that they were twins. They had similar blue eyes and black, soft looking hair. However while Adam looked mischievous with lines crinkled around the corner of his eyes, Antonio looked more... Soulful. He had a sunken gaze that made him look wider beyond the playful grin that graced his lips.

Alyssa suddenly lifted her head, and a desperate glimmer of hope lit up in her eyes. "Dr. Ortega said there's still a chance! We can go overseas. We'll find the best doctors and use the best medicine! Money isn't a problem. The Salazars have plenty of it! "Jordan, I'm begging you. Give us one more chance. Let us make it up to you, okay?" Make it up to me? I opened my eyes and looked at her. "How are you going to make it up to me? With money? Or with the family affection that's ten years overdue?"

Noah stood alone in the living room, the late afternoon light spilling through the windows in soft gold streaks across the floor. Hayes had just fallen asleep upstairs, and for once, the house was still. It was peaceful, normal, and he liked this version of life—simple, contained, and safe. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the glass of water on the table. Then, the room tilted. Not violently, and not enough to make him fall, but just enough to feel wrong. Noah froze, blinking once, then twice. The world didn’t correct itself. Instead, it split. For a second, there were two tables, two glasses—two versions of the same reality, slightly out of alignment.

"The treatment might save us both. Or it might kill us both. I don't know what to do." More kicks. Hope was moving a lot now. Like she was trying to tell me something. "Are you saying take the treatment? Or don't take it?" The kicks continued. And then something strange happened. The kicks formed a pattern. Kick, kick, pause. Kick, kick, pause. Like Hope was sending me a message in code. But what was the message? I tried to count the kicks. Two kicks, then a pause. Two more kicks, then a pause. Two meant...

There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness that tugged at my heartstrings. --- Two years earlier, I found myself sitting alone in our favourite spot, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a warm hue over the surroundings. I had already drunk two glasses of wine. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the desire to confess my feelings to Seb and the fear of risking our friendship. As I wrestled with my thoughts, a familiar figure approached, two glasses clutched in his hands. Seb. He had a faint smile on his lips, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness, a reflection of the bittersweet moment that lay ahead of us.

“What?” “Ah-ah-I’m sup-ssssss-ssssssss-sup-supposed t-t-t-t-t-t-t-to ssss-st-sstay w-w-wi-“ I mentally cursed my inability to properly speak as Soren cut me off abruptly. “Look, I’ve got my orders and I don’t have time to listen to your stuttering mess of whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

Because part of me wasn’t feeling it at all. That Was the Worst Part Half of me was breaking. The other half was… watching. “Anna!” Sam’s voice sounded distant again, like it was being dragged away from me. Or maybe I was the one slipping. The Split Deepened My vision fractured. Not blurred. Divided. Two Perspectives One I was on the ground, shaking, gasping, my hands gripping the floor as if it could hold me together. The other I was standing. Perfectly still. Unmoving. Watching myself

*Split. The memory suddenly made terrifying sense. Ava looked back at Prototype Two. "What was split?" The smile disappeared at once. The emptiness behind his eyes deepened, and when he answered, his voice carried thirty years of hatred. "We were." The clearing fell silent. Prototype Two pointed toward himself, then toward Prototype One. "We were never separate children." Ava felt her heart stop. *No. No. No.* "We were one person." Thunder exploded across the sky. Several survivors gasped, while others began crying because they understood before Ava did.

My daughter, Lily, was hit and dragged for two whole miles by a drunk driver. I rushed her blood-drenched body into the emergency room. While the doctors saved her, I collapsed onto the floor in the hallway. With the last ounce of strength left in my body, I sent a text to my husband, Howard. [Lily is in critical condition. Get to the hospital now!] A few seconds later, my phone chimed with a reply. [Stay safe. I’ll be over as soon as I wrap things up here.]