The Broken Clock

Quiet

Broken

Silence

The clock is broken, not working at all anymore. I think it’s too old to understand time. I sit in a pile of broken glass worried for the old clock that ticks no more. Can’t someone fix this clock? So I can hear its sweet melody once more.

Footsteps

Finally, now maybe someone can fix this broken clock. Suddenly a face appears in the doorway and a high voice shrieks, must be another woman I thought. “What have you done!!!” She screams at me making me flinch. I hated when they yelled at me, it was such a disturbing sound and so very annoying.

She begins calling for more people on her little box. What was it called again? Oh yeah a walkie talkie. “She killed her! Come quick please!!” I tilted my head at this and looked at the broken clock on the floor, the glass spread everywhere. Was she calling the clock a person? It was just a clock, they could always buy a new one.

I hear more gasps as people enter the room running right over the glass to the clock as they placed their heads on the upper middle of it. “Gracie, what have you done?” I looked up to see my therapist staring at me with horrified eyes. I looked back at him halfheartedly “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like it was alive.” His eyes glaze over in horror. “How could you say that about her?”

This made me even more confused as I looked back at the people picking the broken clock up. “It’s just a clock” I spoke softly not wanting to be yelled at. My therapist then looked very confused before he gently took a hold of my hand and looks into my eyes, while speaking in a soft tone.

“Gracie, that’s not a clock, it’s your mother.”