Episode 5 — When we were Eighteen

Like flipping a switch, things in Whitegrove were getting back to normal. As normal as they could get. Kids were blowing bubbles, some were racing using their bikes.

Tania and Michael came to pick Sasha up. She didn’t want a party. She barely wanted to be seen. But somehow the entire class chipped in to throw her one—something quick, something cheap, something beneath the open sky just behind the schoolyard.

Even Anya came. Tania’s fraternal twin. The prettier one, if you asked Anya.

They laughed, they danced to a busted speaker, and when it was time to blow out the candle on a two-tiered cake, Sasha felt a strange tingle crawl up her arms.

The sky dimmed.

Then it began to rain.

“That’s weird,” Tania said, looking up. “The skies must not really like you.”

A ripple of laughter. But people were already scrambling.

“Sorry, Sasha,” Jasmine called out, shielding her curls with her hoodie. “I gotta get home before it starts raining cats and dogs — but happy birthday, girl!”

“Happy birthday!” the rest echoed as they dispersed, like migrating birds.

In a matter of seconds, only Sasha, Tania, Michael, and Anya remained.

Rain fell harder.

“What are you doing standing there?” Tania snapped, hands on hips. “The cake’s getting ruined. Ah, damn it .... it’s all soaked now.”

Still, she scooped a wet chunk off the table and ate it.

Sasha burst out laughing.

“What? We can’t waste food! You know how long I saved up for this?” Tania said, chewing. “Anya, put some in your pockets.”

“No way. Mom bought me this dress — I’m not smearing it with melting scraps,” Anya sniffed. “Besides, I need this for next month.”

Sasha smiled.

She had almost forgotten she’d just turned eighteen.

In most towns, eighteen was the age you got a car, went to college, or left home. In Whitegrove, it just meant your name stopped appearing on school registers. You became an adult, officially counted among the living. Until the suits counted you among the dead.

There was only one school in the town. And yeah, the normal subjects like Mathematics and languages were taught but it was mostly about survival.

This meant there was no continuing education.

You just… stopped showing up.

You were grown now.

If Sasha wanted, she could get married right now.

A gentle tug pulled her from her thoughts.

Tania, fingers still sticky with icing. “Get out of the rain, stupid.”

The four of them ran toward the school — past the fences, across the mud — finally sheltering under the wide stone gazebo by the entrance steps.

They sat down on the cold concrete, panting and wet.

Michael took off his shoes, tipping out a small puddle. “Ah, just great. Look what you guys made me do. My shoes are soaked.”

“No one asked you to follow us,” Tania snapped. “Or were you following a certain person?”

Michael blushed. “I ... uh... I only came this way ‘cause my house is farther. That’s all. Not because of anything… or anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

The twins giggled. Sasha laughed too. Then Michael chuckled, his cheeks still pink.

For a moment, it felt like the world was okay again.

Then Michael spoke. “So… Sasha. How does it feel to never come back here again?”

She blinked. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Ah, yeah. Forgot to ask,” Tania said, suddenly solemn. “You’re finally grown up. I’ll miss seeing you at school every day. Gah. So annoying, being one month younger.”

“What’ll you even do all day?” Anya asked. “Become a hermit?”

“I dunno. Maybe reread a couple books.”

“Not that Not Dead Yet series again.” Tania groaned. “Not that Not Dead Yet series again. Aren’t you tired of that yet? When I turn eighteen…”

“When we turn eighteen,” Anya said, correcting.

“Yeah, yeah. We. When we turn eighteen next month, I’m gonna apply for a job as a tour guide. Get to mingle with tourists and hear about the outside world. Can you imagine? What kind of inventions have they discovered by now?”

Michael scoffed. “You shouldn’t waste time on foolish dreams like that. Remember how well it worked out for Jonah?”

“Hey,” Anya frowned. “Wasn’t he was your best friend?”

“I know. Such a dumbass.” Michael looked away. “And I told him not to go that night. But he wouldn’t listen. What did those dreams do for him?”

He stood up, brushing off his pants. “It’s hopeless to dream about things that’ll never happen. Just follow the rules. Do what you’re told and stay alive. Maybe get married. Have a couple kids. And enjoy your life until it eventually goes to shit.”

“How can you say that?” Tania rose to her feet.

Michael turned to her but didn’t say a word.

Tania’s hands curled into fists. “Dreams are what make life worth living. I talked to Jason that day. He told me he didn’t care if he died — as long as he saw one of them with his own eyes and filmed them. As long as he got to do that, he would have no regrets. That’s what I want too. A life without regrets.”

Her voice broke, grabbing her chest. “I’m not naïve, okay. I know I may never get to leave this place, but… I can let my imagination escape. I can entrust my dreams to a total stranger I meet. Learn from their lives and their experiences. And if I’m not satisfied with that…then I’ll find something else, another way to fulfill that dream.”

Michael got up. “Do whatever you want.”

“Hey,” Tania held her arms at her waist. “How can you not be moved by my beautiful speech. You have no soul, I tell you.”

Then he turned to Sasha.

“Hey, don’t you ignore me,” Tania spoke, raising her fist in the air.

“Happy birthday…Sasha,” he said.

Sasha looked down, her face red and smiled.

“Okay.”

Michael smiled awkwardly and started down the steps.

Tania gasped and clasped her face. “Awww, you guys are so adorable.”

“Too adorable,” Anya added.

“Shut up!” Sasha said, laughing, her face still red as Michael waved once, disappearing into the misty path.

Then —

DONG.

They all froze.

A single bell. A large sound unlike anything they had heard before.

The sound echoed off every building, shook the wet leaves in the trees, and rattled against the iron gates of the school.

Tania looked at her.

“Sasha… It can’t be…”

DONG.

Another.

And another.

The bells were ringing. Much sooner than anyone expected.