The Clock

Time wasted laughing, crying, staring or making errors is all part of life. Is it really a waste at all..?

A man opened his eyes to the ticking of a clock. 

The room was bleached in white, it delivered an almost painful jolt to his brain.

 

''...Do you know why you are here..?''

 

A voice asked, stoic and low. His husky tone did little to calm him.

The man turned his head to his left, then to his right, whomever this voice belonged to, he was not present in the room.

 

Tick, tick, tock.

He took note of the clock. It was set upon the ground before him. The only object in this hollow space.

Tick, tick, tock. 

 

''In an hour, your daughter will die. Go now, and you may still make it in time.'' 

The voice boomed once more, bathing the room in its presence. Almost as if it came from nowhere, and everywhere at once. A voice without an owner. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

 

Colors and sights blended into one, his feet could no longer reassure him that he was standing on solid ground. His temples ignited with searing, hot pain. Everything spun and turned into a mess. Was he about to throw up his lunch..?

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''...Get outta the way! Damn it!'' 

The man's eyes shot open. It was not the ticking of a clock. He was awake from a slumber of a sort, yet he was standing on his feet.

''Are you freaking deaf?! Haul your a*s!'' 

It was a rather burly man, carrying luggage, trying to nudge him without actually shoving him. 

He... He was daydreaming..? Did he just fall asleep in the middle of this place..?

 

Shoving, yelling, a bustling airport. He had no time to waste. An Airport, he knew where he was. He remembered the signs from his last visit on thanksgiving. There was no time to waste. 

 

The man frantically fingered his pockets, there was no wallet there. He couldn't get a Taxi. His blood boiled and the veins throbbed within his arms and legs. The pounding in his chest became insufferable when his body acted without command from the mind. He started running. 

 

A man running within one of the busiest airports in the country was not going to go unattended, or without notice. Security guards sprung to the scene as if shot from a catapult. ''…Hey you! Stop right there! Why are you running..?!''

 

He didn't have time to explain.

And who would believe him..? What if this was all in his mind..?

Could he be daydreaming about all of this--- He ought to stop. The man planted his feet at the ground and spun around to meet the offended guards.

 

''..I'm sorry.. I don't know what came over me'' The bigger of the two tackled him to the ground with force, releasing the valve in his stomach and with it all of his oxygen. A groan of disagreement was not late to arrive. ''..I give.. I give, I'm sorry..!'' He pleaded but they already had him in cuffs.

 

Everything else was a blur. But there was something, all that while, tucked neatly at the back of his mind. He could almost swear that the ticking was still there. Weak, faded but maddeningly present. The Guards begun to rummage through his belongings, they removed his coat and emptied his pockets. The Wallet was there after all, how irresponsible of him. He could've avoided all of this.

 

''..What's that, pretty fancy.'' The smaller one croaked with surprise, examining a small object. It was round and golden, with a long chain linking it from one end to another in a loop meant to be wired around a coat's button. A clock.

 

The man's eyes nearly left their sockets. It wasn't a daydream. The clock was there all the time. And the ticking, what was a soft, nearly inconsequential background note was now an insufferable and blatant ticking.

Tick, tick, tock.

 

He leapt as if shot out of a cannon, with his hands cuffed behind his back, his mobility was not as hindered as it could've been. Instincts overwhelmed his mind, goading him into mad acts, and he crashed into the guard. The unsuspecting victim collapsed into the ground, the clock flipping in the air in what appeared to be slowed motion.

 

With the fervor of a madman, he clenched his teeth around the clock, catching it with skill not unlike that of a hound trying to fetch a stick. Once more the heart forced itself on the mind, and the thought of the 'Dream' being true, with all it's consequences followed drove him to run as fast as he could.

 

Tick, tick, tock.

His muscles were crying for rest, but the clock won't stop. Neither could he.

Tick, tick, tock.

Feet became numb, eyes weary and throat dry. But he kept going. Her house wasn't that far away.

Tick, tick, tock.

 

He was being followed; at least half a dozen guards trailed him while flailing their batons.

Tick, tick, tock.

 

He saw her. It was her back, but he knew it was her. She was carrying her newly born child, a beautiful son with cerulean eyes and wheat colored hair. The little one turned to him, waving his hand. 

Tick, tick, tock.

 

It was almost time, the pain was gone, the weariness was lost, all replaced with hesitant relief. 

He was there in time. He doubled over and took all the breath he could before shouting at her the top of his lungs.

 

''...Swe---'' 

Little attention did he pay to the blistering lights and the speeding truck as it blindsided him.

Tick, tick..... Tock.

 

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A young woman opened her eyes to the ticking of a clock.

The room was bleached in white, it delivered an almost painful jolt to her brain.

 

''...Do you know why you are here..?''

 

Author's Note

Just another story.

Reviews

[Marianne Rose]

Very enjoyable read- it kept me engrossed in both the reality of the man's actions and the feeling of time running out. The chain of the ticking clock not being broken with his actions to reach his daughter was quite a twist. How many things do we inherit from our ancestors creating an unbroken chain like this? And how many times does the suritt of our belief drive us right to the brink of disaster? If only he had looked up sooner . . . I like the tone, the mystery and the writing of this piece, and it seems there may be more to tell. Most enjoyable and well done!

[LastMonth]

Oh, Kind of you to stop by. You're most welcome here.
I'm glad you enjoyed this.

read moreOh, Kind of you to stop by. You're most welcome here.
I'm glad you enjoyed this.

This style is actually a significantly recent 'Phase' in which I try to be more technical in my writing.

[LastMonth]

Ahhh.. comment was eaten. Long story short, Thank you!

[Marianne Rose]

You're welcome- I like the depth of your writing, and will try to get to more of your stories as time allows!

[Shannon]

"just another story"? Voices like yours are not common on this site. Your writing is always surprising, well thought out and entertaining (or moving).
This one seems to be a slightly new take on that voice. Nicely done.

[LastMonth]

I'm glad you found it entertaining. I'm in a phase when I'm focusing on improving. I don't really see these stories as finished products as much as they are stepping stones in the right direction. Though I still enjoy them greatly and love them equally. (Despite their -In training- status.)

[Papaya]

Very intriguing and suspenseful.
Nice one! :)

[LastMonth]

Thank you kindly. :)

[Papaya]

You're very welcome! :)

[AliciaB]

WHOA. Plot twist. The ending is vague, leaving the reader wondering what really happened. I like stories like this, where the reader is thrown immediately into the action and doesn't get much in terms of background material. It causes him/her to focus on the events of the story themselves, which you have captured well here. The repeated motif of the ticking clock is very good. It adds a sense of maddening inevitability to the story as the man is constantly trying to "beat the clock" (literally), and then, ironically, becomes the victim of his own haste. Very interesting. Nice work!

[LastMonth]

Ah, Thanks for the review Alicia. Always a pleasure. I'm glad that you liked it.
I'm actually having a friend help me with this one. You won't -believe- how many mistakes she corrected here. But I'm happy that you ilked this style. Thanks for stopping by.

[LastMonth]

Well. Alicia, this is a new version with a slightly different ending.
(Courtesy of my helper.)

[AliciaB]

Oh man... the cycle is never going to end! Aahh! Needless to say, I will not be accepting any clocks from anyone anytime soon. :) I like this ending, though it freaks me out a bit as well. Cool!