The Death Clock: chapter 3

 

3

I woke up before dawn. I slipped out of my room and crept down the stairs. I sat in the living room until I heard a knock on the front door. I thought about waking Cat up, but then decided that she needs to sleep. So I got up and answered the door.

A man in the blue outfit of the movers was standing at the door. He smiled at me and asked if a Ms. Turner lived here. It took me a minute to remember that Turner was Cat’s last name.

"Yes, but she’s asleep. Would it be all right if I sign the form? I also live here." I said to the man. The nametag on his chest said Steven Brocwell.

"Normally, I would have to say no, but it is unreasonable to show up at six in the morning. Because I’m quitting tomorrow, sign away kid," he handed me the form. I signed it the in cursive as best I could. He read my signature, "Kid could you at least put your full name, you’re not even supposed to sign in the first place. Make it look professional."

"That is my full name. Isaac. Just Isaac."

"Whatever," he said in a disbelieving manner. Together me, Steven, and two other men carried all the stuff upstairs, completely silent. We set everything in piles. Book piles, bags of clothes, electrical piles. The last two things we carried up were the TV, which we put on the wall, and the bed.

I bade them good-bye and set towards putting my room in order. I placed the large bed in a corner and put the mattress on. I covered that with a sheet and blanket. I hung everything up in the closet. When I closed the sliding door, it looked like just another wall. I put the table at the foot of the bed and the computer on that. The books I lined against the wall next to the bed. The heavy clock was among the last few things to place. I decided to hang it on the part of the closet that didn’t slide. I looked at the four things left. All that was left was a small lamp, a plug-in air freshener with interchangeable scents, a large and heavy black rectangle, and last was a camera with over thirty gigs of memory.

I left the lamp in the corner opposite the bed and plugged the air-freshener in. It had a scent called country rain. I took a whiff of the smell. It was pleasant, but I would look for another later.

I heard a rustling outside my door. I checked the clock. I had been working for two hours. Cat must just be getting up. I opened my door to say good morning. I closed it quicker than I thought possible. Cat’s door was opened and she was getting dressed. She wasn’t naked, she just didn’t have anything else on other than her nightgown.

The heavy door’s hinges were slick. The door slammed close with an echoing bang. I heard hurried steps coming closer. My door opened so quickly it clipped me on the side of the head as I tried to jump out of its way. It was like being hit with a baseball blown out of a jet engine. I had seen it happen once. It had been a bloody mess. My vision didn’t fade to black. It jumped and all sight was lost.

When I could open my eyes, I saw Cat’s face looking relieved. "What happened?" I asked.

"I heard the door slam, so I thought something happened. I ran over and opened the door a little too quickly and it clipped you in the head. I didn’t call a doctor because I didn’t think you would be out this long."

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes. I was so worried. But why did you slam the door in the first place?"

I thought back, attempting to remember why I slammed the door. As I remembered it I said it aloud, "I- I saw you getting changed. You only had your nightgown on. I didn’t feel comfortable seeing you like that," I said slowly.

It was then that I noticed the rest of Cat. She still only had her nightgown on. Of course, she wouldn’t have gotten dressed. I was knocked out, she had to stay and make sure I woke up. But she stayed by me for twenty minutes. She could have easily gotten properly dressed.

She was sitting on her knees next to me and still had one hand on my chest to feel that I was breathing normal. When I looked back up at her face, she was blushing. She must have forgotten that I still didn’t know her well enough to see her in just a nightgown.

I propped myself onto my elbows to help clear my head. I shook my head to get rid of the dizzy and clouded feeling. As I was about to say something apologetic, Cat wrapped her arms around my neck and held me close.

"I’m so happy you’re alright," she said in my ear. She held me so close that I could feel her quick heartbeat and her chest move with each quick, irregular breath. She acted as if I almost died. I put one arm around her and used the other to sit up higher. My fingers touched a warm, sticky wetness. I tensed up and looked at my fingers. They were a bright red.

I broke free from her grasp and looked at the floor. A red stain covered the area around where my head had been. My fingers went to where I thought the door had hit me. A long, shallow gorge spanned from above my ear to the back of my head. Even as I touched it, I could feel the wound getting smaller and closing. It had completely healed in a matter of minutes.

Living on the streets taught me that a person could only lose so much blood before they died. Lose a few pints and you would pass out and become terribly sick. You were dead if you lost a liter of blood. I was good at judging how much liquid there was in any given spot. There must have been nearly two liters. Lose this much blood and there would be absolutely no chance of recovery.

"I should be dead. I should have died," I said slowly, unable to grasp that I had just dodged Death. I looked at Cat and she couldn’t look me in the eye,
"What did you do?"

"I had to give it a try. You were dying. I couldn’t think of what to do. I used the Death Clock. It spun in reverse, a white bolt hit you, and you started to breathe again. I’m so glad you’re not hurt."

Memory flooded to me about that clock. I witnessed it killing a woman. Now it saved me. I must have missed something important.

"What do you mean you ‘used’ the Death Clock." Was she trying to kill me? There were simpler ways of getting rid of me, namely asking.

"I don’t know. It just appeared out of nowhere. I never could control all of its appearances. It always appeared when I was scared no matter what.
Sometimes I could summon it but not this time. It just showed up. I was so afraid I lost you." Cat said, wrapping me in a hug that knocked me to the carpet.

She had fallen on top of me when her hug knocked me back, and I felt strange. She was closer than she had been before. I could smell the apple scent of her shampoo and her soft pink hair fell over my neck. I was nervous around her when she was close, but I also felt glad for the proximity. I could feel her whole body move closer as she hugged me tighter, crying as she thought of how I nearly died.

Not knowing what else to do, I hugged her back before untangling her arms from around my neck, as I attempted to stand. I got all the way up before I got dizzy and stumbled backwards. I grabbed at Cat’s hand to balance myself, only seceding in pulling her along. We fell onto the mattress and she once again hugged my neck, afraid I would disappear if she let go. She whispered over and over "Don’t leave me; don’t leave me all alone again, please."

Her body heaved as she said this repeatedly and cried heavily. She curled against me until she calmed down, but she whispered the words endlessly. I could feel her breathing slow even though she said the words at roughly the same pace. She must have been tired from seeing me nearly die, and then cry on and on.

"You had better explain things, later," I whispered as she fell asleep from crying and sobbing so much. I fell asleep with her arms still around my neck. For once, I didn’t mind having someone stay this close to my sleeping body.