I flicked the bedroom light. On. Off. On. Off. On, off, on, off. On off on off. On off on off on off on off on off on off. Twenty-eight times. Good enough, but make it ninety-four. I wasn’t going to risk letting the earth fallen apart just because I was a bit lazy.

I continued the routine. On, off, on, off. On off on off. On off on off on off on off on off on off. My finger was getting tired, the muscles ached. Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five. My eyelids grew heavy. I mentally punched myself. Seventy-seven, seventy-eight. I paused. Did I skip a number? I stared at the lamp, at my sore arm. My head was spinning in slow circles, but panic started to squeal from the back of my mind. I skipped a number. I skipped a number. The ritual is broken.

I started the routine over again. Fear swallowed me whole. Tears pricked behind my eyes, but I didn’t cry. I furiously turned the light. Each second unleashed a torrent of terror in me.

I heard the door to my house opened, but I didn’t stop.

“Theo?” Jesse called from the living room. The key and her bag jingled where she threw it on the couch. Moments later, she materialized in front of our bedroom. “What the fuck, Theo?”

I turned to her. The tears I was holding back slid down my cheekbones. “I made a mistake. Disaster will be inflict on the world.”

“Are we seriously having this conversation at this time?”

“You don’t understand.” I said.

“Oh my God,” She groaned, rubbing her face. “I don’t come home to this bullshit.” She turned, her boot soles stomped the wooden floor. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”