Stop

I move my arm to try and reach out to him; if time has stopped and I've not frozen, what better way to use this moment but to save my father and myself?

But as I start to move, the world shifts, playing out in slow motion. The glass slips closer, daring to rip my face to shreds. All sanity is lost within the frozen moment as metal splinters through the window and, as I stare at my father, I realize I cannot save him. I pause for but a moment, a sniffle ripping through the still atmosphere like a fly in an empty room. The metal is so close to him. It seems that if I move, so does the world around me. And with every blink, things shift once again, very minimally, but they do. And, right now, minimal is life or death.

Even whispering the words "I love you," makes the universe inch closer to my adopted father's demise. Every. Move. I. Willingly. Make.

***

One girl lives in an asylum.
The other, an orphanage.
They are identical,
yet have never met.

One boy made of metal,
the other of myth,
the girls have their hands full,
even without Jayha's threat.

And what is to happen,
the moment they meet?
Opposing powers colliding,
one making time stop--
the other making it complete.

Be betwixt to bequeath;
'twas a trick, not a treat.
The hands will not stop
nor shall they sway--
no mere halfie shall stand in their way.

Wanted for a crime they don't recall committing, the two girls fight for their lives through space and time, trying to figure out who this "Jayha" person is, and why he wants them dead.