Page 4 of Rewind

The sheets on her bed were pink with rainbows. Mark hated these sheets because he claimed they were childish and no grown woman ‘with sense’ would put them on her bed. She loved pink and girly things because she wasn’t allowed to have them when she was younger.

It was only when she was taken into her grandmother’s custody in her teens was she able to indulge in her love of ‘cutesy’ items and these sheets were one of the first purchases she’d made after inheriting this house. The music on her phone cut on again, and this time she noticed this was a model she’d owned five years back because of the pink and white Hello Kitty cover, another casualty of Mark’s annoyance.

How did she have this phone when Mark had broken it in a fit of rage by smashing it against a wall? She shut the alarm off completely and her home screen popped up with the date.

May 9th.

This couldn’t be right because yesterday was the 9th. She opened her phone to go to the calendar to see if there was an issue with her phone and a chill ran up her spine. The date still said the 9thbut it was it was five years earlier.

“What the hell? What’s going on?” she muttered to herself.

She slid out of bed, certain she was in the middle of a dream. She headed to the bathroom and noticed the hole in the wall next to the nightstand was gone. Mark had punched his fist through it with the intention of hitting her but she’d ducked before impact. Her crime according to him was questioning him when he’d come home drunk at 3 in the morning.

She ran her hand along the wall to ensure she wasn’t hallucinating. Something was definitely off. Hesitantly, she stepped into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Her clouds with smiley faces shower curtain hung proudly as if she didn’t have to pack them away when Mark complained about them. But what really took her by surprise was the glimpse of herself she caught in the mirror.

Her skin was flawless. The scar above her eye from when Mark threw a rock at her head because he felt she had been disrespectful to his mother, was gone. She yanked off her frilly pink bonnet and a multitude of knotless braids cascaded down her shoulders. She hadn’t worn this style in years because Mark said braids made her look ‘ghetto’.

Was it possible she had gone back in time somehow? Like in a weird episode of the Twilight Zone? She wasn’t sure how this had happened. And Amina still wasn’t convinced this was all real. This had to be a dream.

May 9thfive years ago was two weeks before Mark proposed to her. If she remembered correctly, he’d called her early that morning to ask?—

Just then her phone rang, and she stiffened almost afraid to answer. It couldn’t be. There was no way, this was happening. Yet, when she headed back to her bedroom and picked up her phone a gasp tumbled from her lips when she saw it was indeed Mark.

She didn’t want to answer the phone but instinct and fear made her hit the green button on her phone to receive his call. “H-hello?”

“Took you long enough to answer. Aren’t you usually up by now?” The affable almost jovial tone was one he used before he slid the ring on her finger. He hadn’t spoken to her with any cheer in his voice for a long time.

“I, ugh, was in the bathroom. What’s up?” she asked cautiously.

I was thinking I could swing by your office and pick you up for lunch.

Those were the words he used that morning when he’d called her. She clenched the phone tighter and braced herself, certain he wouldn’t say exactly that.

“I was thinking I could swing by your office and pick you up for lunch.”

Her knees buckled and she nearly tumbled to the floor. She placed her palm against the wall to steady herself.

“Amina? Are you there?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think the connection must be bad.”

Mark huffed in apparent exasperation. “I keep telling you to upgrade that old phone. It’s embarrassing when you pull that thing out in public. It’s bad enough you have that kiddy phone case. It’s time you grew up, babe.”

Had he always been this condescending to her before their marriage? Whatever was happening now, she couldn’t deal with him on top of it, especially if her suspicions were proven to be correct.

“My phone works just fine and there’s nothing wrong with my phone case. As for lunch, I already have plans.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Amina could only imagine Mark’s expression. It was rare when she spoke back to him and when she did, she was immediately met with some form of violence.

Her stomach was in her feet. Would he come after her for being defiant? But it occurred to her that he didn’t get physical with her until after they were married.

“Are you okay?” he asked with the clear implication that she wasn’t herself.

“I’m good, Mark. I need to get ready for work. I’ll call you later.”

“You know?—”

Click!

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