That clock. That wretched clock. That sound has haunted me for years, chasing me in my dreams and in the world beyond. That tick, tick, tick was the sound of death’s watch announcing the hour of demise. To the normal human ear it was just a clock, sitting in your living room. To me, it was a deathly noise. The sound belonged to father’s grandfather clock, which was given to him years ago. Inside of the clock was all of his lifelong riches. After a long while of dealing with the ticking and his obsession with the clock, I decided I wanted it dead. I wanted him dead.
Years passed, and I am now 22. Father, at age 83, is already on his deathbed. Mother wanted an older man, and Father was there at age 66. I never understood why she wanted an older gent, but he was there, none the less. I was sitting in the empty room on the soft, leather sofa next to a man by the name of Ryan Terry. Ryan was 23. He said I could move in with him once father passed.
To tell you the truth, I am happy about father’s upcoming passing. No more, will that clock’s sounds haunt me.
“So” Ryan began. “You’re not the least bit sad about Greg’s Death?”
I sucked in a deep breath, then sat up a bit. “Ryan, What is happening to him is natural. Tis something I can’t fight, nor resist.”
Ryan looked at me, his sterling eyes shining in the dull moonlight coming from the window like pools of light. He shrugged and wrapped his arm around me. “Well, I am happy you will be staying.” He then winked.
I turned away, eyebrows furrowed with sudden frustration. “Ugh, That’s all you ever care about, isn’t it?” Then, he removed his arm and moved closer to the other side of the couch. “Listen, I am going to go and check on him. Once his heart no longer beats, I’ll just tell the workers: They’ll know what to do.”
I pointed to one of the men wearing a white coat. He carried a clipboard with a piece of parchment on it that I believe read, “Patient’s death expected in 2 hours.”
A devious smile played upon my face. A part of me felt awful for feeling this way, but another part of was happy to be rid of the man and his clock. Father never cared much for me, just his money. That is why He is not in a hospital as he should be: Father wanted to die in the place where he kept his money. That is the act of a man of greed.
I walked down the halls which were once plastered with pictures and portraits of father and his money. When I was a child, the walls had pictures of mother. Then her passing had come, and the pictures were taken down. I tried to yell at father, telling him to stop and keep them as memoirs, but he didn’t listen.
I continued to walk until a familiar sound rang in my ears: tick, tick, tick.
I growled, balling the sides of my Lavender skirt in my fists. “That inferiors ticking!”
I turned and pointed an accusing finger at one of the movers.
“Get rid of that damned clock!”
He turned to his right and looked at the large, mahogany grandfather clock wrapped up in layers of bubble wrap and protective papers. He turned back to me and nodded. Soon after, he was pushing the clock out of the door and onto the truck.
A few more steps and I was there; Father’s room. I open the door, the silver doorknob was cold to the touch. The air inside the room was crisp and cold. It smelt of medicine and sweat. Father laid there, both hands on his chest. There was a baby blue blanket on him from his torso to his feet. I walked even closer so that I was at his bedside. He craned his neck and his grey eyes bored into mine.
“Darling Alice, Have you come to give me well wishes for the other side?”
I smiled. “No father, I have come to say... I hope you rot.”
With that, I walked off and closed the door behind me. Soon, I heard the sounds of the moving truck leaving the area. I went back to the sofa, but Ryan wan't there. The sounds of crunching were behind me. I turned to see Ryan, sitting upon a stool and eating some of Father’s granola. He smiles and murmurs, “Come forth, the only thing I’ll bite is my snack.”
I chuckled and sat on the stool next to his. We spoke for about an hour; of Pets, jobs, and plans for a dinner date the nest day. After a while, I heard a sound, one I thought I had be rid of.
“Harken.” I murmured and he stopped laughing. “That sound... Is it you!?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “What?” I stood up and looked around the room, opening cabinets and drawers. “Have you gone mad?” He exclaimed. “There is no sound upon us.”
My eyes grew wider, then I Ran down the halls until I reached Father’s room. I palmed the door before opening it.
He laid there, eyes closed, chest no longer moving: He was finally dead.
I walked up to his lifeless body and grinned. I was giddy, knowing that him and that clock would no longer be. I laughed loudly. I was soon becoming hysterical, then I stopped. My spine tingled, my blood ran cold: It was that damned ticking!
I looked at father, and began to pound against his chest and scream. “YOU and that clock! You loved that Confounded Clock than you loved me or mother! I hope that clock burns! I hope it burns to the ground with all of your money!” I sat upon the ground and hit the floor.
“Oh God above, why must you have cursed me with a father who’s own WEALTH was more important than his family?” I heard footsteps behind me, then felt Ryan’s hand upon my shoulder.
“Listen Alice, It’s going to be okay-“
I smacked his hand away and turned to him, red face due to the onslaught of tears. “You don’t understand. Father hated me. All he wanted was money and all I wanted was him dead!” With that, I ran once more. I passed the empty hallways once filled with happy times, I ran past the kitchen counter where mother used to make me cake and sweets, I ran out of the door and into Ryan’s car.
The sound followed me as I drove, not caring to focus on the road. tick, Tick, TICK, TICK, TICK. The sound grew Louder and louder. I looked to my left and saw a large ditch with a mighty oak in the middle.
My hands quickly jerked the wheel off to the left, and the car flew in the direction of the Tree. My body jolted and the world went black.
All I heard was tick, tick, tick.