The Ticking Clock

Chapter One

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain was violently spewing from the clouds, drenching the entire town. The wind was making my wind chime cry out a constant, fast, and loud melody. Every few minutes lightning, followed by erupting thunder, would burst from the sky. It was my kind of night.

            I had just finished my shower and I was now laying on my bed, the wetness of my dark brown hair seeped into my pajamas. I was holding my favorite necklace. It was a very simple, and modest necklace. It had brown beads, that matched my hair, and an old, rusted iron key for a charm. I never knew what it went to, but I still wore it everyday.

            You see, my grandfather died of TB when I was only nine. As he was dying, he handed me this necklace and tried to tell me something that was too weak for me to hear. I was heartbroken. Me and my grandfather were very close. I always wore this necklace so that I would never forget him.

Just then, I heard knocking on my door. I quickly wiped the tears from my face.
"Come in," I say, my voice cracking. My door squeaked open, and in the doorway was the familiar face of my mother. She gave me a small, sympathetic smile.
"I just wanted to tell you that Holly is finally asleep," my Mom said. I didn't reply. "Quite the storm outside isn't it?" She asked, not knowing how to start conversation but not wanting to leave me alone. I sighed.
"Yeah it is," I said in a quiet voice. I turned my head to look out my window. I felt my Mom sit down on my bed beside me. We sat there for a while. It felt as if I could almost the tick tock tick tock of a pocket watch. I really was going insane.
"He's still here. I know it," My Mom said, putting her hand onto her heart, and the other atop mine that held the necklace.
"It's not the same!" I said, standing up. I was filled with anger, so much I felt I couldn't contain it. I took a big breath, my voice hitching. And I sat back down, and tried to calm myself. We sat in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry...," I wanted to continue but couldn't put it into words.
"It's ok, I miss him too," she said with a deep sigh. "I have to drop off some of Gran's laundry tomorrow. Maybe you could come with me and look at all his knickknacks," She said hopefully.  I really didn't want to go, remembering him was painful, but the thought of forgetting him was even worse.
            "Sure," I agreed quietly.