We're running out of time.

The sound of the bell shook the entire school, hushing the voices of the teachers in every class.
"Tariq ... Tariq?"
I felt a hand gripping my shoulder, pressing hard on the bone. A sharp pain shot down my entire body, and I jolted into consciousness.
My eyes took a moment to settle on the green board on the wall a few feet away from me.
The desk in front of the board was empty. The teacher might've left already.
I followed the hand on my shoulder to the face that was speaking; it looked familiar.
He looked familiar.
"Amar?" I sounded a little more than a whisper.
The sunlight was hitting on his thick-framed spectacles, and his greasy hair fell over his brow, making it hard for the concerned frown to be seen.

"What just happened?" I asked him, wiping the drool off my lower lips.
I could hear furniture getting dragged, steel water bottles clanking, and bags getting zipped.
The last thing I could remember was fiddling with the scraps I found in the attic of the old school building.
"Is it 4:30 already?"
I had no recollection of going to this class or dozing off in the middle of a lecture.
Weird. I thought to myself.

He was staring at me, grinding his teeth. His fists were curled into a ball.
"We're running out of time." He stated with a straight face and paced out of the classroom.

"Why is he acting up like that?" My head pounded hard with a dozen more questions about the short time gap in my memory.
I pushed my desk away, looking for my backpack. It wasn't there.
There isn't any book or note on the desk as well.
The sun had already turned orange; its tangy reflection on the glass panels of the principal's office glared through the windows beside the green board.
I walked out of the class to the corridor, looking for him.
Everybody was scrambling out of the room as if their life depended on it.
The long white-tiled hallway filled with a herd of hormonal teenagers bumping into each other every few steps, and the occasional sound of lockers getting shut muffled some giggles.
The tall windows at the top were broken, and the wind cared not if the edges of the glass were sharp or smooth - it just rushed into the hallway, rustling down some shards of glass. A big chunk of glass almost dropped on a guy carrying loads of books on him. He kept shoving the books into his locker as if nothing had happened.
Nobody ever cared to take a look; except me, who was trying hard to avoid stepping on the shattered glasses on either side of the floor.

I bumped into someone. Someone who wasn't wearing a uniform.
"Hey, Mr.Jay?"
The Maths teacher glared at me.
He has a rectangular face with small dark eyes and a better hairstyle than most boys at school. The faint smell of his cologne was disturbing. He was wearing a checked blue shirt and khaki trousers. He missed a tie.
I've never seen him coming out of a classroom with no tie.
I stood there, shifting my weight between my legs, waiting for him to say something back.
He didn't move a muscle.
"Sorry. See you tomorrow." I chuckled, brushing past him.
"We're running out of time." He said without turning around.
My mouth dropped.
He started to walk away before I could find my voice.
"Sir?"
He spoke in the same way as Amar, stern and commanding. Each word was evenly spaced and stressed enough for me to spook out.
But he was long gone into the crowd.
I've never felt so annoyed and confused at the same instant.
I started striding through the hallway, looking at the empty classrooms and people passing by.
A few guys flowed out of the classroom door I was standing against, almost knocking me to the floor.
I burrowed against the elbows, hips, and shoulders of strangers, and someone elbowed me in the ribs; I'd let a silent groan.
"Amar!" I called out.
I had to find him- he should know something.
No head turned around. No sign of him.
The exit door was a few feet away, but I couldn't leave yet. Not without some answers.
What if he had already left? I wondered.
No, that couldn't be possible; I was right behind him.
I didn't realize I was panting hard until I looked at my reflection in the broken glass on a notice board.
A flash of thought struck me.
Restrooms.
How did I miss them?
I looked at my reflection for a brief moment before turning around to the restrooms.
Right then, the PA system screeched.
A static noise filled the hallway.
"Tariq Salam of Sixth B, Do not leave. We're running out of time."
The announcement ended with a loud thud.
My throat started to close up.
I looked around to see people dropping whatever they were up to and staring at me. My hands iced, and I could hear my heartbeat drumming in my ears.
The hallway grew narrow, almost claustrophobic, and my legs started to feel like noodles.
I tried grabbing onto something, but the world wouldn't stop spinning.
My worst fears were coming true.
People's stares bore through my skin, and all I wished for was to disappear into thin air or sink through the floor, just something that could get me out of there.
For the next few minutes, my body went into fright mode, trying wildly to get me to safety. And it did, away from people.
I almost crawled into a restroom to catch my breath.
Thank god, it was empty.
I paced across the restroom till I could feel my legs again.
My hands were glued to the back of my head as if I were stopping it from spinning.
Was that some nightmare that looked very real?
I'd hoped so because I had no idea what was happening.
My lungs filled with the fresh fragrance of lemon disinfectant.
Heat spread through my cheeks, and I had to tell myself not to scream.
I stood on my shaky legs, nausea overtaking me, and examined myself in the mirror.
I saw a face pale as a ghost, and I splashed water on it for the nerves to calm down.
My grey shirt had turned dark around the armpits, and my body was leaking gallons of sweat.
Why was nobody freaking out except for me?
Broken window panels in the hallway?
C'mon, wasn't that a big deal?
It sure should've caused chaos.
But nobody seemed to be aware of that.
Why would Amar say something weird and run off?
I'd never seen Mr. Jay that stubborn, and how did he say the same words in the exact tone as Amar?
And who made that announcement through the PA system?
I'm sure it didn't sound like either of them.
I'd started losing my mind.
My conscious was eating me alive.
There was no point sitting in the restroom when there was something strange going on with the school, with me.
If I was the only one who knew something wasn't right, it was up to me to do something about it.
"We're running out of time." Those words hammered inside my head.
What in the world did that mean anyway?
Why are we running out of time?
And what would happen if we did?
I doubted the chances of getting hold of Mr. Jay or Amar again.
Maybe it never mattered. I was called out because I had to know what to be done. Somehow I must've known.
Out of all the days I'd been in school, why today?
I was sure I'd not been to the last lecture.
But how did I end up there?
What was I doing before the lecture?
My thoughts were a complete mess. I wasn't sure if I could trust myself.
When I'd put all the pieces of broken memory together, I realized I'd been to the old school building's attic.
But how could that be the cause for all that happened? It was filled with a heap of scraps from over the years.
The restroom turned still as the wind had stopped blowing, and even the corridors went quiet.
The only sound other than a leaking tap was the ticking of the watch sitting on my wrist.
I had a long look at it.
I realized it wasn't mine. It looked older, and the straps were barely holding onto my hand.
The attic? Had I picked it up from there?
It was showing the wrong time.
A couple of minutes to midnight. Silly, I thought.
It was the last thing I'd worry about.
I pinched the screw and turned it around to 5 PM.

I woke up to some familiar sounds, the furniture getting dragged, water bottles clanking, and bags getting zipped.
The green board had smudged chalk on its corners.
"Tariq. ... Tariq?"
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
This cannot be happening.
A chill ran down my spine.
"Amar?"
"You were almost caught snoring." He started giggling.
"What's happening?"
"I saved your ass from being thrown out." His eyes were looking at the board.
"This can't be real," I whispered to him.
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
"Was I dreaming?"
I grabbed the wrist of my right hand, and I could feel it. The watch.
"Amar?" I whispered.
He looked at me, packing his bag.
"Are you sure that we were here all this while? Isn't the school supposed to be over like an hour ago?"
He sneered back at me. "What? Why do you ask so?"
I knew I sounded insane.
"Have you ever felt as if you had entered a weird reality where everything felt familiar yet out of place?"
He placed his bag on the bench. The sunlight was glaring through his thick-framed spectacles.
"Sometimes, when I forget something my mom had asked me to do, she stares at me until I figure out what I've missed. Right then, everything feels out of place. It sure feels like sitting on a hot seat."
"What happens after that?"
"Well, Nothing, actually. She would go about her day."
That did explain things.
So, were the things I witnessed a warning to me?
To make me realize that I got to set the time right.
"We're running out of time." Made much more sense because the day wasn't supposed to be over.
How did the watch that could alter the flow of time end up here?
"Tariq? You okay?"
He had his concerned frown again.
"I think I just might've turned back the time."