The Terror Loop

A terrifying time loop had me trapped.

I was forced to relive the same timeline over and over, all just to babysit a boy who was hellbent on throwing himself into a freezing river. I had lost count of how many times the loop reset. I was completely exhausted from trying to save him, and honestly, it seemed like he was finally getting sick of jumping too.

The boy stared at me, a strange, intense light flickering in his eyes. He told me he was never going to jump again.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, absolutely terrified he might still do something stupid. I couldn't help but ask him if he really meant it.

But his next words sent a violent shiver down my spine. He told me that if he ever had to die in this lifetime, he was making damn sure he dragged me down to hell with him.

Is that supposed to be romantic, or just downright terrifying?

At six in the evening, I jolted awake from a nightmare.

Before my brain could even fully process my surroundings, I threw myself out of bed, bolted out the front door, and sprinted toward Silver Creek Park like my life depended on it.

Half an hour later, a teenage boy plunged from the Silver Creek bridge into the dark water below.

And I, the helpless bystander who witnessed the whole thing, would be forced to accompany him in an endless cycle of rebirth, doomed to repeat this miserable day.

"Almost there. Almost there. Run, you useless legs!"

I was gasping for air, spotting the boy's slender silhouette standing by the riverbank in the distance.

I made it in time.

He was standing on the wrong side of the safety railing. A crowd of morbid onlookers had already gathered around him.

"Move! Let me through!"

I shoved my way through the sea of people, vaulted over the metal railing, and locked my arms around his waist in a death grip.

"There is always a way out! Please don't do this to yourself!" I screamed.

"Did you bomb your exams? Who cares! I'll have my family pull some strings and send you to study in Europe! Are you broke? I will literally buy you a mansion and a sports car right now. I'll give you ten million dollars, just please do not jump!"

From start to finish, the boy didn't say a single word.

He just kept trembling.

There's still a chance to talk him down, I told myself.

"Are you gonna jump or what? We've been waiting out here forever."

"Yeah, if you're not gonna jump, quit wasting everyone's time! If you need a hug, go cry to your mommy!"

Some middle aged guy had suddenly shoved his way to the front of the crowd. He was holding up his smartphone, recording a video, shoving the lens practically right into my face.

"Shut your mouth!" I whipped my head around and roared at him.

But in that split second of distraction, the boy ripped himself out of my grip and threw himself backward into the abyss.

Great. Here we go again.

I hopped back over the railing, snatched the phone right out of the obnoxious guy's hands, and hurled it straight into Silver Creek. Then, putting my entire body weight into it, I slapped him across the face twice.

I pointed at the stunned, red faced man and looked right at the police officer who had just arrived on the scene.

"I'm jumping too. And it is entirely his fault."

Then, under the horrified gazes of the crowd, I threw myself into the water to join my tragic river boy.

There was no pain. Just a seamless transition back to the very beginning of the loop.

I burst out of my bedroom, practically colliding with the person standing in the hallway.

"Young Master, what's the rush?"

I stared at Martha. Martha stared at me.

She was holding a perfectly pressed designer suit on a hanger.

"The ballroom is almost fully decorated. Your friends should be arriving any minute now."

"Martha, what's today's date?" I demanded, my voice tight.

"It's May first. Your eighteenth birthday party, sir."

I yanked my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen.

May first. A massive wave of relief washed over me.

May first meant I was over a month away from the jump date on June tenth.

Which meant the loop had thrown me back a whole month before he died.

The very next day, I transferred to Oakridge High, the school the boy attended.

Thank God he had been wearing his school uniform when he jumped, or else it would have taken me days to track him down.

I pulled up the Oakridge High student forum on my phone. His face and name were plastered all over the front page.

"Oakridge's very own AP Honors student, Silas Vaughn, takes home first place in the State Math Olympiad."

Why would someone so brilliant want to end his own life?

I walked into my new classroom and spotted Silas sitting in the very back row.

After giving a brief introduction at the front of the class, the homeroom teacher asked where I wanted to sit.

"I'll just take that empty seat in the back row. I'm pretty tall, so I don't want to block anyone's view," I said smoothly.

The teacher smiled and nodded.

I dropped my backpack onto the desk right next to Silas.

"Hey. I'm Rowan. Looks like we're desk mates now. Nice to meet you."

It took a moment for it to register that someone was actually sitting next to him. Silas slowly lifted his head.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

He averted his eyes.

He gave a tiny, barely audible hum of acknowledgment.

Alright, so he was the cold and distant type.

Too bad for him, there wasn't a single room on this earth I couldn't warm up.

For the entire morning, I talked his ear off.

Even when he got up to fill his water bottle, I trailed right behind him like a persistent parasite.

To be completely accurate, it was a totally one sided conversation.

Silas rarely gave me the time of day, but whenever I shoved a worksheet in his face and asked for help with a math problem, he would actually take the time to explain it to me.

The moment the bell rang, Silas stood up.

I immediately stood up too, falling into step right behind him.

"I'm going to the restroom," Silas said, turning around with a look of pure exhaustion on his face.

"I know." I waved him off casually. "I drank way too much water last period anyway. We're both guys, what's the big deal about going to the bathroom together?"

Truth be told, I had literally just peed during the last period. My bladder was bone dry.

I just wanted to stick to him like glue.

What if he suddenly had a dark thought and tried to drown himself in a toilet bowl?

When a guy's mind wanders, his eyes tend to wander too.

Silas was looking at me like I was an absolute psychopath. By the time I snapped out of my daze, I realized I had been staring directly at his crotch for an uncomfortably long time.

"Wait, dude, I..."

Silas swiftly zipped his pants, looked away, and practically sprinted out of the restroom.

What?

I walked back into the classroom.

Silas was slumped over his desk, his face completely buried in his arms.

As I sat down, I noticed the tips of his ears and the back of his neck were bright red.

Was he actually shy?

I couldn't resist poking the bear.

"Don't be shy, man. We're both dudes." I leaned in a little closer. "Honestly, you're packing. Biggest I've ever seen."

Silas didn't lift his head, but the skin visible above his uniform collar turned a deep, furious shade of pink.

He looked like a ripe cherry. It was actually kind of cute.

But the consequence of teasing the quiet kid was immediate, brutal silence.

For the rest of the morning, Silas completely ignored my existence.

Even when I asked him for help with a question, he shut me down.

"I don't know how to do this one. Go ask someone else."

Excuse me?

Who else was going to teach me a problem that the state math champion allegedly couldn't solve?

Okay, so he was genuinely pissed.

"I'm sorry, Silas."

The lunch bell finally rang, signaling the end of the morning classes.

Silas looked at me. "Hmm."

"I shouldn't have made that joke about your size in the bathroom."

Silas totally lost it. He aggressively shoved his books into his backpack and stormed out of the classroom.

"You absolute idiot!" I slapped my forehead, questioning how my social skills had deteriorated to this pathetic level.

Things would have been perfectly fine if I had just skipped that last sentence.

In my past life, the very first time I ever laid eyes on Silas, he was standing on the edge of Silver Creek, ready to jump.

I couldn't stand the thought of a kid my age dying so violently, so I pushed my way to the front of the crowd to talk him down.

"Can't you see how beautiful the world is?" I had yelled. "There is nothing you can't overcome! Think about your parents!"

The second those words left my mouth, he jumped without a single trace of hesitation.

From that moment on, I accompanied him through endless, miserable loops.

This time, I had taken a long, hard look in the mirror.

I grew up drowning in privilege, raised by parents who genuinely loved each other.

I lived in the light, so I stupidly assumed the whole world was bright.

When Silas jumped, I had effectively become one of his executioners.

Even though my intentions were good, I was just too desperate to play the hero.

I carried a heavy, sickening guilt when it came to Silas.

This time, even if it wasn't about breaking the loop for my own sanity, I desperately wanted him to live a long, safe life.

"Silas, wait up!"

I jogged down the hallway, finally catching up to the boy who was practically radiating heat from anger.

"I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My filter is completely broken." I stepped in front of him. "Let me buy you lunch, okay? Please forgive me."

"No need," Silas replied flatly. "Go eat by yourself. I have things to do."

"So we're cool? We're still best friends?"

Silas didn't stop walking, but he finally turned his head slightly.

"Hmm."

Silas was late for the afternoon session.

"Sorry I'm late."

He stood in the doorway, chest heaving like he had sprinted the whole way here.

"Take your seat."

Teachers always turned a blind eye for the genius kids.

Silas walked down the aisle toward our desk in the back.

A few guys in the front row deliberately pinched their noses shut.

It wasn't until Silas sat down next to me that I caught the smell clinging to his clothes.

Heavy, greasy cooking oil.

"What did you eat for lunch? Smells intense," I whispered.

"I work a shift at a diner during the lunch break."

"Oh."

It was then I realized Silas's social standing in the classroom was absolute garbage.

Oakridge High was the most elite prep school in the city, and the AP Honors class was the best of the best.

Whenever the bell rang, a massive crowd would gather around the desks of the top five ranking students.

But Silas, the literal number one student in the city, sat in total isolation.

A few times, I caught some guys whispering a couple rows ahead of us.

"He literally smells like a deep fryer. It's stinking up the whole room."

"Can someone report him to the principal? If he wants to flip burgers, he can drop out. The stench is ruining my focus."

This was blatant, targeted bullying. I was sitting mere inches from Silas, and I wasn't bothered by it at all.

There was no way a faint smell of cooking oil was reaching the front rows.

They were just pissed they couldn't beat his test scores, so they had to find a pathetic reason to attack him.

"Is his family really that desperate for pocket change? Showing up smelling like a grease trap is so embarrassing."

"He has zero shame. Think about it, he's the city valedictorian."

"I wonder if those girls from the next class who have a crush on him would run for the hills if they got a whiff of that."

"Hahahaha."

Through all of it, Silas remained dead silent.

It was as if their toxic words couldn't penetrate his skin. He just kept his head down, quietly working on his math equations.

My chest tightened with anxiety.

If they kept pushing him like this, what if my Silas snapped and jumped again?

"If you have something to say, say it to his face! Hiding in the front row whispering like cowards is pathetic!" I barked out, my voice cutting through the classroom chatter. "Do you want me to buy you a megaphone so you can broadcast your insecurities to the whole school?"

"You..."

The ringleader's face turned purple. He raised a hand, but the guy sitting next to him quickly shoved his arm down.

"Forget it, man. Just drop it."

The two of them exchanged a few hushed words. The ringleader's furious glare instantly melted into something much more submissive.

It was obvious what was said.

"Do you know who that is? That's Rowan Harrington. The heir to the Harrington empire."

...

I had been surrounded by spineless opportunists like them my entire life.

"You didn't have to defend me."

Later that afternoon, as I followed him to the water fountain, Silas suddenly turned around.

"What?"

"I don't care what they say. They can't touch me."

How could he be this passive?

The image of Silas as a tragically beautiful, broken genius burned even deeper into my mind.

"But if you don't push back, they're only going to get worse."

Silas went silent.

I was six foot one, but Silas still had half a head on me.

I reached up and threw an arm around his neck, pulling him down slightly.

"Don't worry. I've got your back from now on."

"Okay."

Caught in the warm summer breeze, I heard Silas whisper his agreement.

The closer we got to the final bell, the harder my heart hammered in my chest.

During the day, I could shamelessly stick to him like glue. But at night? It wasn't like I could crawl into his bed.

Actually, wait. Yes I could.

"Come to the roof with me. I need to make a call."

I grabbed Silas's wrist and dragged him out of the classroom.

Once the call connected, I deliberately put it on speakerphone.

"Hey, Dad?"

"What do you want?"

The furious male voice on the other end was so aggressively loud I almost dropped my phone in shock.

His acting was almost too good.

"Dad, tonight I..."

"Don't bother coming home tonight! Your stepmother is coming over for dinner, and she gets a migraine just looking at you. Go crash in a ditch for all I care!"

Wow. My best friend Finn had literally just finalized my parents' fictional divorce.

I had to admire his commitment to the bit.

"Silas." I looked up at him with wide, pathetic eyes. "My dad kicked me out. Can I crash at your place for one night?"

"Your dad sounds incredibly young," Silas noted dryly.

"Ah, haha. Yeah, well, people from his generation married super early, you know?"

Of course he sounded young. The guy yelling on the phone was my eighteen year old best friend.

"I'll take your silence as a yes! Dinner's on me tonight."

"My house... is a dump. You won't be able to handle it."

That was definitely a yes.

"Why wouldn't I be able to handle it? Honestly, my family used to be super poor too."

The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to rip my own tongue out.

I was officially the most socially inept human being on the planet.

Thankfully, Silas didn't press the issue.

Thank God my dad was currently on a business trip in London and my mom was busy touring the vineyards in Italy.

After shooting a quick text to my butler, I followed Silas home.

Silas wasn't exaggerating. His house was... extremely minimalist.

There was barely any furniture, but everything was spotless.

"Grandma, I'm home," Silas called out.

An elderly woman with snow white hair stepped out of the tiny kitchen.

"Silas, you're back already?" She wiped her hands on her apron. "Oh my, you're early today. I haven't even finished cooking."

"And who is this handsome young man?"

"Hi, Grandma! I'm Rowan, Silas's desk mate. I'm crashing here tonight. I'm really sorry to intrude."

"Oh, nonsense! It's no trouble at all, sweetheart."

Silas's grandma was incredibly warm. She even threw together an extra meat dish just for me.

"Eat up, eat up. Our Silas is far too skinny. You've got a perfect build, Rowan. Don't go losing any weight now."

"I won't, I promise."

I shoveled the rice into my mouth. The food was genuinely amazing.

Because it was a last minute sleepover, his grandma cleared out a small storage room and set up a cot for me.

The sheets were freshly washed. They smelled like clean laundry soap. The exact same scent that lingered on Silas.

I wondered what Silas was doing right now.

Homework?

I had already finished mine, so he had to be done by now, right?

What if he was sitting in his room having dark thoughts?

I sat up, lay back down, and tossed around in the sheets. My anxiety was keeping me wide awake.

I had to go check on him.

At one in the morning, I knocked softly on his bedroom door.

"Silas, are you asleep?"

I could see the light bleeding under the door crack. He was awake.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open.

"What is it?"

"I think there are rats in that storage room. I'm freaking out. Can I sleep in here with you tonight?"

Silas pushed his glasses up his nose. After a grueling thirty seconds of silence, he finally caved.

"Come in."

"Are you not going to sleep?"

I lay on his mattress, watching the boy sitting rigidly at his desk.

"In a bit."

"Okay."

I would never understand the stamina of valedictorians.

Half an hour later, Silas stood up and opened his closet.

He pulled out a thick quilt and a sleeping mat, spreading them out on the floor.

"You're sleeping on the floor?" I asked, bewildered.

"Yeah."

"The bed is too small. It's too hot."

"Oh."

I closed my eyes. Whatever.

Once the lights were out, I tossed and turned, completely restless.

"Silas, I can't sleep. Let's talk."

"We have to get up early tomorrow."

That was a firm rejection.

"Just for a minute."

"Fine."

I thought for a second before asking the big question.

"Silas, what college do you want to go to?"

"Yale."

"What is the one thing you want most in the world?"

I had an ulterior motive for asking this. If I knew exactly what Silas wanted, I could hand it to him on a silver platter.

If he got everything he wanted, he wouldn't jump into the river anymore.

"I want a stable life. With my grandma."

That wasn't the grandiose answer I was expecting.

"What about you, Rowan?"

"What do you want most?"

"I want... I want you to stay alive forever."

Silas went completely silent.

"Go to sleep. It's late," he finally whispered.

The days blurred together, and before I knew it, half a month had vanished.

As a prestigious prep school, Oakridge High had an incredibly intense academic culture.

With only a few weeks left until our final exams, almost every student in the AP Honors class voluntarily signed up for the late night study sessions.

I was used to the laid back curriculum of my old international school, so the suffocating pressure was definitely a shock to my system.

But Silas signed up, which meant I signed up too.

I couldn't let him out of my sight.

During the break after the second evening study block, a girl called Silas out into the hallway.

Separated by a single pane of glass, I eavesdropped on their entire conversation.

The girl was confessing her feelings to him.

Silas rejected her without a second of hesitation.

"I'm sorry. I can't return your feelings. I have absolutely no intention of dating anyone right now."

"Can we at least... start out as friends?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Sorry. I'm not good at socializing. It's better if we don't."

"Alright," the girl said, swallowing her disappointment. "Well, good luck on the exams. I hope you get everything you want."

"Thanks. You too."

Silas walked back into the classroom.

I suddenly realized my heart was hammering violently against my ribs.

I tried to tell myself I was just panicking that if he got a girlfriend, I wouldn't be able to stick to him twenty-four seven.

"Look at our genius playing hard to get! Rejecting the absolute prettiest girl in school without blinking," Blake sneered from the front row.

"I don't even know what she sees in him. Aside from his face, he's a completely broke loser."

I grabbed my heavy calculus textbook and hurled it directly at Blake's desk.

"Keep your garbage mouth shut."

"Whether it's looks or grades, you don't even come close to Silas."

"And your personality is a total trainwreck."

The girl who just confessed to Silas was Blake's long time crush.

He had shot his shot a few days ago and got ruthlessly rejected. Now he was using Silas as a punching bag to soothe his bruised ego.

Blake's mouth snapped shut. His chest heaved as his face contorted into something genuinely vicious.

He threw all caution to the wind.

"Oh, right, the Harrington heir is always here to protect his little pet. You've got some neat tricks, Vaughn."

"Word on the street is you two are basically joined at the hip. Eating together, sleeping together. Are you guys hooking up or something?"

"Wow, smart move. Hooking a trust fund kid is definitely better than smelling like grease at a local diner. Gotta respect the hustle."

I clenched my fists, fully prepared to shatter his jaw, but someone beat me to it.

It was Silas.