The Clock Strikes Twice

Chapter 1

Andrew Johnson awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside his bedroom window and the bright, warm sun peeking through the curtains, greeting him with a new morning; a fresh start. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking at the time on his phone. It read '10:15am. Saturday 9th February'. He put his phone back down onto his chest of drawers, smooth to the touch. Andrew contemplated whether to have a couple more hours sleep or to actually get out of bed and get ready since he had nothing special to do today. It was his first day off from work in a long time. His boss had been generous enough to give it to him after putting in extra shifts outside of his contracted working hours. He'd been working so hard this year that it all seemed to go by in a flash, as if he had met with Doc Brown from 'Back to the Future' and went forward in time in the iconic DeLorean at 88 mph.

Andrew finally decided to get out of bed and actually do something today. It was his day off after all; he couldn't spend it in bed all day watching Netflix and drinking huge amounts of Coke until he's burping bubbles. Andrew could never sit still and rest - he needed to be on his feet at all times. He's always been like that; unable to take a break and instead live his life to the best of his ability. He went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. A hell of a sight greeted him in the mirror. His sandy, light brown hair was messy and unkempt. Dark eyebags hung underneath his eyelid from lack of sleep. Stubble poked out from all over his face like a new forest was beginning to grow full of tiny, prickly trees.

He took off his boxer shorts and put them onto the bathroom floor next to the shower, stepping into it and closing the door behind him, confined in the tiny space. The water began to pour from the shower head onto Andrew's body, turning his hair from a bird's nest to a smooth, dark brown texture. The warm water dripped onto Andrew's pale, freckled skin, making his senses come alive. The small shower room became enveloped in the scent of mango and orange, tropical flavours from an exotic land. Who needed to travel to such places when only the scent of it could transport you there in an instant? He closed his eyes and leaned back, picturing himself standing underneath a waterfall as the water rumbled and resounded in his ears. Exotic creatures greeting one another and not a single cloud could be seen in the blue, pale sky.

Andrew broke out of his dream, opening his eyes and instead of facing a beautiful rainforest, was greeted with the bland, cream tiles of his bathroom. He turned off the shower, the room ushered into a silence. He stepped out and wrapped a towel around him, proceeding to shave the stubble off of his face like a man cutting down trees. Once he was finished, he walked back into his bedroom, transitioning from bland creams to bright baby blue. It was a colour that relaxed him, that he had loved ever since his childhood. A colour that made him feel like he wasn't alone, despite people having that exact interpretation of this shade. From his wardrobe, he pulled out a basic white shirt and a pair of navy black jeans. He wasn't doing anything important today; work was finished and it was time to seize the day off that he had been given. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and walked downstairs into the kitchen.

The kitchen was something out of one of those interior design magazines you'd find in a store. Bright, shiny red countertops were dotted around the room, little specks of glitter could be found within them like a hidden jewel. Smooth white cupboards of various sizes, a breakfast bar where he could enjoy whatever meal he wanted to consume, essentials that any human being needed were here too. Andrew was a perfectionist, he needed things to be in good shape and to a high standard. Decorating the kitchen in this way was something that he was proud of and something that he took a lot of credit for.

Andrew went to the fridge and got a carton of milk, pouring it into a glass and returning it to its place. He picked up a banana from the fruit bowl, peeled its skin and began to eat it. He wasn't feeling hungry due to a large dinner the night before with his work colleagues. Andrew didn't see himself as a massively popular guy at work, but he did have his own little circle of friends and they did go out together whenever there was an opportunity. He chuckled to himself slightly. He was never a people person, preferring to keep to himself than interact with others. He thought that it was better for him to be seen, and not heard. Most of the time anyway.

He sat down on one of the stools that surrounded the breakfast bar and took a sip of his milk and another bite of his banana. He checked the time on his watch - 10:45am. 'I've still got a lot of the day to kill,' he thought to himself. Although it was a day off from work and he was free to do whatever he wanted for the next 24 hours, there was still something about this particular day that seemed, off. Andrew couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it was like there was something missing. Did he forget to get groceries? Did he forget to send an important email to a client or his boss? What was this feeling?

Andrew walked over to the calendar after finishing his tiny breakfast and crossed off yesterday's date with a large, black 'X' written in Sharpie. He looked at today's date - 'Saturday 9th February 2019'. It seemed like a normal day like any other February 9th, so what was bothering him the most about this day in particular?

That's when he saw it - those words written in blue ink in the small date boxes.

"Shannon - 1 year".

There it was; plain and simple for anyone to see. It was one year since his girlfriend's death.

One year since the accident.

One year since she was murdered.