The Clock. The so called 'government' of our once proud town.
***
We're the seconds.
Minutes make up the council.
And hours, well, no one really knows much about them.
***
Questions get you killed. Curiosity is deadly.
The seconds don't have names, we're not worthy of them. At least, The Clock doesn't think so. Instead we're given numbers. We're told that's all we need. And like I said—questions get you killed.
YOU ARE READING
The Hands of Death
Teen Fiction"Mum, I'm scared." She pulled me closer into her arms. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon." She told me that every night. But she didn't know that it would be over, for her. My mother made the wrong choice, the brave choice, and...
