The Clock | Teen Ink

The Clock

June 22, 2012
By Jessica493 BRONZE, Corvallis, Oregon
Jessica493 BRONZE, Corvallis, Oregon
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Waiting. In a room full of nothing, for I-don't-know-what. Let's go, let's figure it out. There should be people here, right? Family, friends, a acquaintance maybe? No. No one. Alone in a room full of nothing, just some neutral walls that don't say much and a chair. Just one chair. Across the room there is a door, with a clock just above it ticking the seconds away.

Hearing the ticks we have to go, leave before the time comes and what is behind that door comes out, whatever that may be. There is no more waiting for us. We need to get out, figure it out. But there are no windows for climbing, only one door for walking.

So we get up out of that chair, off on our journey, and we love the thought of it. Almost exited now, we leap and bound to the door and start to turn the handle. This is where our love of adventure and excitement leaves us now. Our hand on the door, the clock ticking away behind our ear. We have but a few seconds, we d=need to decide. The barren walls and our comforting chair, or the unknown.

That's it. We can't take it anymore. We can't go back to that chair, those walls, listening to that stupid clock tick! It's happening, we realize, as we heave ourselves through the door, we are going through.

The bright light blinds us as we enter a whole new world. In a daze we look up. Mesmerized by the sun, we can't take our eyes off it. When was the last time we saw the sun? We don't remember. Only the constant hum of vaguely familiar voices makes us look away. But they are not in sight, where could they be hiding? We only see trees any ways we look. We think this a forest, we think to ourselves as we walk through the trees. Where are they? Why are they not with us? How could they just leave us alone in that room?

When finally distinguishable words float to our ears, "..where are they?" "We have been waiting and waiting, you think they got lost?" Who are they talking about? Are they us? If we are they, then who is them? A ring of voices answers our thoughts as we walk through the last of the trees.

It is everyone we know, everyone we have ever met. "Where were you?!" we shout "I was waiting for you in the room with the clock!"

"We were here." Replied our friend as they gently touched our shoulder "Waiting for you."


The author's comments:
I just started writing, and this is what happened.

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This article has 1 comment.


on Jun. 28 2012 at 12:01 pm
Eliquencity PLATINUM, Winfield, Illinois
20 articles 0 photos 28 comments
In truth, I had a little trouble understanding, but it's kind of a mystery story, right? I was intrigued - right away until it ended. I like the little bit of enigma of it and how you describe everything. It's cool. Sometimes, you can get a great story when you just write and let it flow.