Tick tock tick tock tick-
She sat on the mantle piece of the giant clock , bobbing her head from side to side in the same rhythm and pace of the ticks and tocks of the humongous clock.
As she sighed she spoke a few quiet words. , '' How long will it be till the hour glass runs out of sand to keep flowing form bottom to top? '' .
A few short moments after her brief little question , the door creaked slowly , as if intentionally dragging on for her to wait anxiously to whom's face she would see.
Door closed once again , and as usual the silence kept dragging on , the mere seconds , minutes , hours , months , even years she'd spent like this , worrying and awaiting for someones return.
She sometimes even wondered if anyone was even out there , if this is all real , the ticks and creaks of the old clock and the door closing and opening time and time again.
It had been driving her up and out of insanity and anxiousness. She'd scratch her arms so hard sometimes that it'd bleed -or so she thought it would-
When in reality , she wasn't even there , this was all in her mind.
She'd been in a coma for months. the ticking wasn't the giant clock she'd sat on , it was the clock beside her bed in the hospital , the creaking of the clock is every time someone'd check in on her. and the long , dragged out creaks of the door where when she'd nearly wake up , but she never did you see. that's why always in the end , it'd close forcefully , waiting for her to wake up and drive her up again , and then leave her with a tiny speck of hope , which each time it'd get smaller and smaller until there was no more hope left.
And that was when the creaking and ticking of the clock ended , and when the grains of sand in the hourglass had all fallen to the bottom and would now be forever shut,locked with the key shattering into pieces as it slipped out of the key hole and plummeting onto the cold stone floor.
this was it , her end and her beginning.
This was her tale foretold that awful day when the coma had ceased her life and trapped her into her own sick mind that disgusted her more than anything.
This was her final set of freedom , there was no light to go forward to , there was only the darkness that ruled and chained her heart to be shut forever.
This was the tale of Edwina Johnson and this also was the end of it too.
YOU ARE READING
Vinyl Memories
AdventureA series of short and small stories. I do not define this to only one genre because i'll try to include others , most of these stories may be slightly gore-y.
