[WP] You have a box, with a button. Press it and a year later you'll be right back to when you pressed it. A year without consequences.

"So typical. So. Fucking. Typical." Brit stood there with her arms crossed. This was a very familiar image. The dictator stood on the other end of the room. Her glare burning a hole in my forehead as the Mac 'n' Cheese burnt a whole on my tongue. "Why would you even bother coming home, when you're just going to elephant your way through the kitchen at 3 o'clock in the morning?"

"Fantastic." I managed to sound out between juggling the molten lead in my mouth. "I just. JUST. Got home after---" I paused. I couldn't get the words out. "You know what, I don't need to even explain this. We've been going through this--"

"For what feels like forever." Brit said softly. In reality, it's been 6 months since.

I didn't know what to say after that. Neither did Brit. We didn't really talk after last year because...of that whole...mess.

"I'm..." Brit broke the silence. I knew what was coming. It wasn't like it was new. "I'm going to be staying at my parents for a--"

"How long?"

"I...I'm not sure. I'm really not. Maybe we did jump into this marriage too fast. Maybe they--"

"Don't fucking say it."

"--they were right."

Every god damn time. 'They were right'. Her shitty, 'your-husband-is-a-piece-of-shit' flag-waving parents in their infinite wisdom knew that this would happen. That our loooooving family would be the one blessed by disease and death. Somehow it was my fault. The worst part of it all? I believed them. I still do.

Jason. This all happened because of that night with Jason. And that day with Jason. And that party with Jason. And that car--

Christ, how many times has it been now? That's one, then there's tw--


Brit left a little early this time around. Maybe spacing out did the trick?

I make my way to my study and look for that damn thing. Now where did I put it? I start to sift through the files and the photos. Albums upon albums that are constant reminders that I failed. But maybe if I find i--

"There you are." I say out loud. It sounds a little strange to me, the way my voice rose. The gleefulness. The excitement. This little box with a red button inside bringing about so much joy.

I take a long look at it this time. The lacquer was so smooth. It was etched with gold trimmings that was very similar to the old trinkets my mother would buy at the market in the kampung growing up. My fingers able to glide across it so effortlessly and tracing the lines. How can...something so powerful, be so tiny?

I lift the lid and see the button. A bright red button.

Without hesitation I push it.

The travel back is nothing like you'd imagine. It is seriously nothing. You don't feel it. You don't see it. You also don't hear---


I dart to the kitchen, following the sound of the crash. I'm not prepared for what's in front of me. It doesn't get easier. When you see someone, or something that you've lost and have it returned. It's that feeling of home that your body just will never be able to contain.

And there he was. In his Batman onesie like always. One knee propped up on the kitchen counter and the toes of his other foot dangled for shoddy balance about an inch above the floor. His tiny arms opening the cabinet for the pots and pans. With that silly grin on his face. His eyes like his mothers staring back at me, knowing that I would be the one to help him out.

"DadIswearIdidn'tdoanythingIwasjust--" He rapidly exclaimed.

My Jason.

"Trying to make Mac'n'Cheese?"

"Yep." He said defeated, slinking down off the counter. I pick up the pot that fell and look around.

"Don't worry, it seems like your mom didn't wake up. But keep a look out, we can't have her wake up because of how busy she is." Jason salutes me as he darts behind me and keeps watch around the corner of the kitchen.

"Nothing yet." He whispers.

"Good. Now what do you want?" I hold up two boxes of Mac'N'Cheese. "Dinosaurs? Or Cars?"

"Dinosaurs!" He shouts.

"SHHHH!" I sound off as he covers his mouth. I can see him smiling behind his fingers.

We sit down at the dinner table as the water is brought to a boil. We're silent. Jason's hair is a perfect blend of Brit's and mine. Wavy and curly and wild like his mother's, yet soft and light brown like mine.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of Mac'N'Cheese." Jason whispers excitedly to me.

I dump the noodles into the boiling water and reach for the milk. Jason studies me as I look right back at him. It doesn't get any easier. But I have to keep trying. I will relive this moment until I can see him live.

"Neither will I, bud." I smile. "Neither will I."

/r/WritingPrompts Thread