That night, Arin could not sleep.
The strange man's words kept repeating in his mind:
“Every hour you borrow… must one day be returned.”
Arin placed the old pocket watch on his table and stared at it. The tiny second hand moved slowly, tick… tick… tick… as if it were alive.
“Returned… how?” he whispered.
The next day at school he tried to ignore it. But during a math test he panicked and pressed the small button again.
Click.
The world froze.
The teacher stopped writing on the board.His classmates became silent statues.Even the clock on the wall stopped moving.
But something was different.
The sky outside the window looked darker than before.
And then…
Footsteps.
Slow… calm… echoing through the silent hallway.
Arin’s heart began beating fast.
The man in the long dark coat walked into the classroom as if he had always belonged there.
“Using it again?” the man said, looking slightly disappointed.
Arin stood up. “Who are you?”
The man looked at the frozen classroom and smiled faintly.
“I am only a collector.”
“Collector of what?” Arin asked nervously.
The man gently pointed at the pocket watch.
“Borrowed hours.”
Arin’s hands trembled. “I didn’t steal anything! I just found the watch!”
The collector shook his head.
“No one finds these watches. They appear to people who wish for more time.”
Arin remembered all the times he wished for extra hours—to finish homework, to explore, to escape problems.
The collector continued walking slowly around the room.
“You have already borrowed twelve hours, Arin.”
“Twelve?” Arin gasped.
“Yes. And time never forgets.”
Arin swallowed hard. “What happens when you collect them?”
For the first time, the collector looked serious.
“Those hours will be taken… from your future.”
Arin’s eyes widened.
“Years later, when you need time the most… it will simply be gone.”
Arin looked down at the watch. Suddenly it felt heavy in his hand.
“So what do I do?” he asked quietly.
The collector stopped beside him.
“There is one way to repay time.”
“How?”
“Use the hours you borrow… to help others instead of yourself.”
The frozen classroom was silent.
“Time respects those who respect it,” the collector said. “If you waste it, the debt grows. If you use it wisely… the debt fades.”
The collector slowly walked toward the door.
“And Arin…”
“Yes?”
“Be careful.”
The collector’s eyes glowed faintly.
“Not everyone who moves in frozen time is as kind as I am.”
And with that…
He disappeared.
At that exact moment the pocket watch ticked loudly.
Tick.
Time started moving again.
The teacher continued writing as if nothing had happened.
But Arin sat quietly in his seat, holding the watch.
Because now he knew something terrifying.
Somewhere out there…
other people could walk in frozen time too.
And they might not be collectors.
