What happened to Tuesday?

4

As the front door clicks, I stare blankly at the floor in the foyer. My eyes gaze over the muddied boots stacked in a tight space we use for storage. Mainly shoes.

I step towards the shoe-rack, feeling the empty ness that now envelopes he house. My fingers caress the wall aimlessly, hoping to feel something.

Cries erupt from the stairs, careening through the house. They shock me.
"Lila, what's wrong?"
"I can't get over the fact that manny won't let me touch him, when has he ever hated us?"
"What? Is he at least acknowledging you,"
"Yea, why?" Her face softens.
"Because everyone seems to be against me today."

Footsteps echo through the kitchen, coming closer to us.
"Hey, Ellie b," dad strides gracefully to the shoe-rack I stared at earlier, and slips on the shoes closest to him.
"I'm just gonna shoot up to the convenience store quickly and grab some milk, you girls can cook dinner tonight, your mum should be home soon." Dad tugs a couple accessories along with him, some I never new he had.

"Okay, don't be long." Lila wiggles her fingers in a goodbye through the glass strip beside the door. But at that point dads already in the car, and down the drive.

I notice as I pass the clock, it seems to freeze. I pause, counting to myself. Why won't you move?

4:45

I'm tempted to tap it, but that won't happen. Just as start carrying on through the house, the minute hands skips a beat, along with the second hand.

4:46:1
4:46:2
4:46:3

I've had enough of today, I don't need you to throw me off.

———

I'm frantically juggling things in my hands around the kitchen, eager to serve dinner as soon as possible. My sister goes at a slower pace.
"Ellie, you really need to slow down, you might knock one of us out." She's pissed, but I can tell she stifles a laugh.

Noises sound form the dining table, clinking of the plates against one another, and the jostling of cutlery. I gaze at the clock again. 6:02.

"What are you two doing in there, we're hungry." Mums voice soothes me from all that's happened today.
"Now Lila, what was that about slowing down?" I giggle, putting on a rare grin. Well, for today at least.

"Okay, I've heard enough wit from you."
"No. You can't seem to admit defeat." We both tear into the dinning room, plates in hand, laughing.

We sit with our parents, settling into the gentle sway of interesting dinner-time conversations.

Over time, my eyes slowly travel towards the clock. It's at an awkward angle from the position I'm sitting, but unmistakably, the clock has stoped again. Frozen.

6:32

Something in me clicks, like a shifting light switch. The numbers mock me, jumping in and out of my memory, trailing at cloak of unease-
"Honey? Are you alright." My head snaps back to the table. All of their faces are twisted with worry.
"Yea, I'm fine, I just think we need to fix the clock.

Now all their heads turn towards the clock.

6:33:2
6:33:3
6:33:4

Any better way to mock me, huh?

They seem amused by my comment.
"Don't worry, we'll get a new one. Besides, that's a hell of an old clock right there." They blend the conversation back into their previous one, munching on the steak I cooked.

It now feels sad, skewed by my fork.

6:33:23
6:33:33
6:33:34

It wasn't my family though, it was the feeling swirling inside me. It almost felt real. But no, it was only my mind making things up.

Like today.

This is all my imagination.

My ruthless brain.