Before Time

The sun hung low in the late afternoon sky, bleeding gold across the cracked pavement outside the school gates. Long shadows stretched like fingers over the sidewalk, tangling with backpacks, scuffed sneakers, and the restless bodies of children finally released from classrooms. Laughter rang out in uneven bursts, sharp and bright, colliding with shouted goodbyes and the rumble of distant traffic. It was the particular chaos of after school—warm, noisy, and fleeting.

Joshua sat on a weathered wooden bench just beyond the gates, its paint peeled down to splintered gray. One arm lay stretched along the backrest, claiming space, while the other loosely held his phone. The screen glowed dimly, ignored. His attention wasn’t on the endless scroll of messages or news alerts—it was fixed, unwavering, on Ottis.

Ottis stood beside the bench, hopping from foot to foot like the ground itself was alive beneath him. His small legs twitched and bounced, energy snapping through him in unpredictable bursts. He wore his favorite black-and-yellow hoodie, the fabric faded at the cuffs where he chewed on the sleeves when he was nervous. The sleeves swallowed his hands, hiding them unless he made an effort to tug them free. His dark curls clung damply to his forehead, still wet with sweat from recess, catching the light in uneven coils.

Joshua had teased him earlier, calling him a little bee. Ottis had puffed up proudly at that, buzzing around the kitchen until Torren told him to stop before he knocked something over.

They had argued after. Joshua and Torren. It had been about stopping Ottis from being excited. Joshua had worked hard to keep his little brother happy. Torren didn’t need to ruin that.

It happened more frequently since the older brother had moved out and left his two younger brothers behind with neglectful parents. Mostly because Joshua was stuck handling most things alone. He knew Torren was trying to fix that though.

Now, Ottis’s bright golden eyes scanned the crowd with sharp focus, darting between faces as parents and siblings filtered in. He rocked on his heels, anticipation vibrating through him like static. He was waiting for Torren. He always waited like this, as though if he stayed perfectly alert, Torren would appear faster.

Joshua watched every movement with practiced vigilance. He told himself it was just big-brother instinct. He told himself it wasn’t fear.

Ottis’s leg jerked suddenly—a sharp, involuntary tic.

Time hiccupped.

It was subtle enough that no one noticed at first. A pigeon perched near the curb blinked out of sync with the others, its wings flapping backward for a fraction of a second, feathers folding inward before snapping back into place. A group of kids mid-laughter stuttered, their giggles looping once, twice, before continuing forward as if nothing had happened. Even the light seemed to shimmer, the golden glow warping like heat haze over asphalt.

Joshua felt it immediately.

His spine stiffened, eyes snapping to the faint ripple spreading outward from Ottis’s shoes. The air around them trembled, barely visible, like a disturbed reflection on water. Joshua exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tightening.

Not again.

His fingers twitched against the bench, muscles itching with familiar tension. This had to stop happening here. Too many people. Too many variables.

Without drawing attention, Joshua leaned forward as if adjusting his posture. His free hand lifted slightly, fingers tracing small, precise motions through the air—patterns burned into muscle memory through years of practice and panic. He didn’t look directly at what he was doing. He didn’t have to.

The ripple smoothed instantly.

Sound stitched itself back into a seamless flow. The pigeon settled, oblivious. The laughter resolved into a single continuous moment. Time resumed its forward march, obedient once more.

Joshua rolled his shoulders subtly, easing the strain that always followed. It felt like pulling a thread too tight and praying the fabric didn’t tear.

Ottis looked up at him, eyes wide and reflective. “Did you see that?” he asked, breathless. “The birds—they did a weird thing.”

Joshua forced himself to relax, letting a lazy smirk tug at his mouth. “See what?” His tone was casual, careless. Practiced. “Birds just do weird things sometimes.”

Ottis frowned, gaze flicking back to the pigeons as if expecting them to betray themselves. After a moment, he shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.”

Joshua’s chest loosened by a fraction. Ottis accepted things easily. Too easily, sometimes. That made it both safer and harder.

Safer because Ottis didn’t know what he was capable of. Harder in the end for Joshua. Putting it up to him to keep things moving smoothly.

Keeping the secret was exhausting, but it was necessary. No one could know what really happened when Ottis’s tics triggered these distortions. No teachers. No doctors. No neighbors who might ask the wrong questions.

Joshua had seen what happened to people who flaunted their power.

They disappeared.

Or worse—they were found, reshaped into something useful for someone else. Made into weapons for people with enough money or tools.

“Hey, Ot,” Joshua said, patting the bench beside him. “You wanna sit?”

Ottis plopped down immediately, legs swinging back and forth. His cheeks were flushed pink from the heat and exertion, freckles standing out against his skin. He leaned slightly into Joshua without even realizing it.

“I’m bored,” Ottis declared. “Waiting is stupid.”

Joshua huffed a quiet laugh and draped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. He lifted his phone again, pretending to scroll, as though he could retreat into his own world and relax.

He never really could.

He scanned the area instead, cataloging details automatically. Other kids clustered in noisy knots. A tired-looking mother scrolled through her own phone near the curb. A janitor locked the school doors behind him. Everything looked normal.

Joshua wished normal followed them.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Waiting sucks.”

Ottis’s leg twitched again—smaller this time, but sharp enough to send another faint shimmer crawling along the pavement. Joshua reacted instantly, fingers flicking at his side, steadying the wobble before it could grow.

The strain hit harder this time. A dull pressure settled behind his eyes, spreading into his temples. Joshua swallowed, jaw clenching, and forced his breathing to slow.

If only Torren understood.

Their older brother had gotten to be normal. He worked late, worried about bills, complained about sore feet. He didn’t have to feel the world slipping out of alignment every time Ottis’s body betrayed him.

It wasn’t fair.

Joshua didn’t tell Torren. He didn’t tell anyone. There were some burdens you carried alone, because sharing them would only make things worse. And with their situation at home, Joshua didn’t need more trouble.

“You know,” Joshua said carefully, after a beat, “sometimes when you’re feeling all jumpy like that, it helps to take a deep breath. Try to stay still for just a minute.”

Ottis scrunched his nose, twisting his hoodie sleeves in his hands. “But I can’t,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “I get itchy. Like there’s bugs under my skin. Like—like they’re trying to get out.”

Joshua’s chest tightened. He kept his voice light. “I know. It’s hard.”

“You’re always helping me,” Ottis said suddenly, looking up at him. His golden eyes softened, losing their restless edge.

Joshua smiled, though it felt fragile. “That’s what big brothers are for.” He meant every word.

They sat in companionable silence, watching a group of kids nearby play tag. Their laughter echoed across the pavement—and then echoed again, looping faintly, like a scratched recording.

Joshua corrected it without thinking.

“Sometimes,” Joshua murmured, “I wish things were simpler.”

Ottis tilted his head. “Simpler how?”

“Like not having to worry about stuff you don’t understand,” Joshua said. “Like keeping you safe from things you can’t see.”

Ottis considered that, then grinned suddenly. “Maybe I’m a superhero and don’t even know it!”

That was very off topic. The distraction was nice. And so Joshua latched onto it.

He laughed, genuine this time, and ruffled Ottis’s hair. “Maybe you are.”

At that moment, a familiar figure emerged through the crowd. Messy black curls that echoed Ottis’s. A quirked smile lazily on his face.

Torren.

He moved with purposeful exhaustion, a worn backpack slung over one shoulder, his steps heavy but steady. He raised a hand in greeting. Looking to Ottis first.

Ottis sprang to his feet. “Torren!”

Joshua stood more slowly, stretching as though to ease the lingering tension from his body. “Alright, superhero,” he said. “Let’s go before we both turn into pumpkins.”

Ottis grabbed Joshua’s hand without hesitation as they walked toward Torren. Joshua tightened his grip, the invisible thread of his protection humming softly beneath their feet—holding time together, holding Ottis together, holding the secret intact.

Torren reached the gate with a tired but hopeful smile. Joshua noticed that immediately.

Smiles were good. Smiles meant something had happened.

“Ready to go?” Torren asked.

Ottis bounced. “Are we going home now?”

“Yeah, but—” Torren paused, kneeling so he was eye-level with Ottis. “I’ve got some news. Good news.”

Joshua’s brows lifted. That alone was suspicious.

Torren glanced at him briefly, then focused on Ottis. “We’re getting a new place. Somewhere just for us. Somewhere safe.”

Safe was relative, Joshua thought. But it was a start.

Ottis’s mouth fell open. “Really?”

“Really real,” Torren said. “I signed the lease today. We move next week.”

Joshua released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “That’s… great, Torren.”

It was more than great. It was hope.

“It won’t be easy,” Torren warned. “But it’s ours.”

“Will I get my own room?” Ottis asked eagerly.

As though sharing with Joshua was terrible. Maybe in his little mind a room to himself was a miracle? Getting away from their parents at all was a miracle.

“Yes,” Torren laughed. “And Joshua gets to pick his wall color.”

Joshua smirked. “Dark.”

“Stars!” Ottis added instantly.

Torren pulled them both into a quick hug. Joshua endured it for a moment before pulling away, embarrassed—but he didn’t step too far back. No need to. They still weren’t free yet.

As they walked toward the car, the sky deepened into dusk, and the weight Joshua carried felt just a little lighter.

For the first time in a long time, hope felt real.