Took The Time

Eva Oddling was the youngest and only member of her family to not have a supernatural gift.

Every Oddling had awakened their own gifts by the time they turned twelve. Sara Oddling, the eldest child, had the gift of Mental Peering. She could discern others' intentions with startling clarity, making secrets all but impossible to hide from her. Thomas Oddling, the second-born, had the gift of Language, which granted him an unparalleled ability to connect and communicate. He could forge friendships and romances effortlessly, bridging gaps between cultures and hearts with ease.

Then there was Eva, the baby, as they called her. While Sara and Thomas were always happy to use their gifts for her benefit, she grew up feeling like an outsider in her own family. As an adult, Eva became less dependent on her siblings' abilities, striving to carve out her own path and come to terms with being the "Regular" among the extraordinary Oddlings. She built a life for herself, one grounded in hard work and perseverance, rather than magical talents.

Until she awoke.

Eva discovered her gift on an ordinary Tuesday, a day marked by the usual frenzy of running late for work. Her mind was a tempest of stress and regret as she rushed through the crowded streets of the city. The subway was its usual claustrophobic self, packed with people pressed too close together, the air thick with the mingling scents of too many bodies and too little space. As the train screeched to a halt, she felt an overwhelming need for everything to just stop. In that moment of desperate longing, time obeyed her command.

The world froze around her. The flickering lights suspended mid-glare, the bustling passengers transformed into statues, caught mid-breath and mid-step. Eva stood in a bubble of silence, her heart pounding like a wild drum in her chest. She waved her hand in front of a frozen commuter’s face, and they didn’t blink. They didn’t even breathe.

Her mind reeled, trying to comprehend the impossible. Testing her newfound power, Eva stepped off the train and walked through the city. The sun hung motionless in the sky, and birds were suspended in mid-flight. She felt a surge of exhilaration and fear, her skin tingling with the intensity of it all. She could do anything, be anywhere, and no one would ever know. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

Eva spent what felt like hours—or perhaps it was mere minutes in real time—exploring this motionless world. She visited the serene, unmoving ocean, the waves eternally poised to crash. She climbed to the top of a skyscraper, looking out over the still city below, feeling a sense of invincibility in the windless heights. She strolled through the Louvre, savoring the art without the press of a crowd, feeling as if she were in a dream.

In the beginning, the novelty of her power was intoxicating. She wandered through a bustling marketplace, touching fresh produce and smelling fragrant spices, all suspended in time. She meandered through parks, watching children frozen mid-laughter on swings and slides. She visited a busy café, reading over the shoulders of patrons who were caught mid-sip and mid-conversation. Everywhere she went, she felt a strange mix of voyeurism and solitude, like a ghost wandering through a world of the living.

But as the hours stretched on, a deep loneliness began to seep into her bones. The silence that had once been a refuge now felt oppressive. She missed the warmth of a friend’s smile, the laughter shared over coffee, the simple touch of a hand. In this silent, frozen world, she was an island, and the isolation was unbearable. Her heart ached for the small, chaotic moments that made life real.

She found herself back at her apartment, standing in the middle of her living room. The clutter of her life surrounded her—books left open, clothes draped over chairs, dishes piled in the sink. It all felt lifeless without the flow of time. Eva realized that despite the frustrations and stresses of her daily life, she missed its vibrancy, its unpredictability. She longed for the messiness of existence, for the noise and the movement that made her feel alive.

With a deep breath, Eva decided to return. She retraced her steps back to the subway, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. Reentering the same train car she had left, she closed her eyes, willing time to resume. She felt a strange flutter in her chest, as if the world itself were taking a breath with her.

The train jerked forward, the hum of life around her resuming in an instant. She felt the warmth of the bodies around her, the breath of life filling the space once more. The cacophony of sounds—conversations, footsteps, the rustle of newspapers—was music to her ears. She smiled, a secret tucked into her heart, a secret that made her feel both powerful and humbled.

In the days that followed, Eva found herself watching the world with new eyes. She noticed the way sunlight filtered through the trees in the park, the way people’s faces lit up when they smiled, the subtle rhythms of daily life that she had previously overlooked. The gift of stopping time had shown her the value of every fleeting moment.

She never used her gift again, but she carried the memory of that stillness with her. It reminded her of the preciousness of each moment, the beauty in the chaos of the everyday. She learned to cherish the bustling, vibrant world, knowing she had the power to pause time, but choosing instead to live fully within it. The gift was not in the ability to stop time, but in the realization of how precious time truly was.

Eva’s life gradually returned to its normal rhythm, but she was different. She was more patient, more present, more attuned to the subtle joys of existence. When she was stuck in traffic, she would take a deep breath and remind herself of the stillness she had experienced. When work was overwhelming, she would close her eyes for a moment, feeling the heartbeat of life around her.

She found herself forming deeper connections with people, taking the time to truly listen and appreciate them. She laughed more freely, loved more deeply, and embraced the unpredictability of life with open arms. The world was a whirlwind of activity, and she reveled in its beauty.

Eva’s gift had been a profound revelation, a silent teacher that had shown her the essence of living. She had the power to stop time, but she chose to let it flow, to be carried along by its currents, to savor each moment as it came. In the end, she realized that the true magic was not in freezing time, but in embracing it.