Undo

Writing Prompt - Everyone gets a single Do-Over, wherein they go back in time 24 hours. They retain their memories, but nobody else does. Write me a story about someone trying to decide whether or not to use theirs.


23 hours ago, Steve splattered all over the sidewalk.

24 hours ago, Steve wrote a short note saying, "None of you will save me. Watch."

1 hour ago, Steve's closest friends and family came together to decide who should use their Undo, if they still have one, to stop Steve from becoming a human pancake. You'd think someone would have volunteered by now.

Well... closest does not necessarily mean close.

. . .

"Okay," Amanda announces. "Let's just go around one more time. I'll start."

She stands up before Steve's circle of friends and family, holding a tiny alarm clock in her hands. The group's small. And getting bored. "Hi, I'm Amanda. I'm Steve's sister. Two years ago I was paralyzed in a motorcycle accident. As you can see..." She does a little jig. "...I used up my Undo on that."

Amanda sits down, and she passes the alarm clock counterclockwise, as per tradition.

"Next."

The person on her left stands up. "Hi, I'm Tommy. I'm Steve's little brother. I haven't used my Undo yet." He already starts handing the clock down. "But I'm training to become a firefighter, so I need to save up for that."

"Next."

Nikki stands. "Lost my Undo." She used hers up as a teenager to regain her virginity. "I was a dumb kid."

"Next."

Betty inspects the clock. "I... I have my Undo." She never looks up to face the group. "But I... want to hold onto it to save my own life someday, y'know?... I hope you don't mind..."

"Next."

Lee immediately passes the clock down to his wife. "No Undo." He lied. "Used it right before our plane crashed."

"Next."

Erin doesn't want anyone to know. "I still am in possession of my once-in-a-lifetime Undo." She Undid cutting Lee's head off. "But I hold onto it to keep my darling out of trouble." Lee chuckles. Erin forces herself to chuckle in return.

"Next."

Richard doesn't even stand. "Got mine. Don't care."

. . .

24 hours ago, Steve stood on the ledge of his apartment building. The wind blowing under his stretched-out arms made him feel like he had wings. It made him feel like he could fly.

Everyone's had their turn, but no-one has volunteered.

"Welp." Amanda throws her hands in the air. "I guess Steve was right."

"Hey, it's not our fault," Richard protests. "You know what? I don't need to respect the dead. The dude doesn't die until 23 hours and 55 minutes before now."

"Guess so." Amanda smirks. "Besides, what kind of jerk offs himself, just to get his friends to waste an Undo?"

The room shifts from nods of agreement, to morbid jokes, to cruel disdain.

The alarm clock goes off.

24 hours ago, Steve jumped.

"Good riddance." Nikki speaks. "Asshole."


Writing Notes:

No "emotional" core - that's kind of the
point - but I like this anyway. A quick
compact exploration of all the possible
ramifications of a "One Day Undo".
Nothing more, nothing less. Then, splat.