There it is again! That depressing, booming melody, like the cries of a heart-broken singer. I must have become a very light sleeper if I'm the only one in my house waking up from this. Either that, or my parents and sister can sleep through anything. But this same exact sound woke me up last night at exactly 3:05 AM. I've always been really good at remembering exactly when things happen for some reason—I can remember exactly what time I was eating lunch last Tuesday. I guess that's just my superpower. I wonder what time it is right now so I can record it just for fun.
As I quietly open my bedroom door and tip-toe into the hallway, I take note of how it feels to be at home with dark silence, like last night. It felt pretty gloomy last night, but it feels worse than that now—way worse. I feel something that I haven't felt in a long time—terrified! I have no idea what it is, but I have this instinct that something bad is going to happen to me—soon. Between the vibe of this room and this creepy tune with words I can't understand, I can just feel it.
Well, I guess I'll still go check the clock. After all, looking at the time has always calmed me down.
No. This can't be.
I've been recording times for as long as I can remember. There is no way it is 3:05 AM.
YOU ARE READING
Mental.
Teen FictionBrooklyn, a 13 year old girl obsessed with time and clocks, is starting middle school after being home schooled her whole life. Something horrible happens on her first day that will change her life forever. She also learns to navigate queerness in h...
