The Clock of Miss Fortune ✔

Chapter - 1

A loud thud struck the floor below Hannah's daughter, Miley's bedroom. A little scraping of plastic and another loud thud woke her up. It was ten in the morning and the delivery was earlier than usual. Miley opened the window. The truck was parked in front of their gate. It was a white, smaller than usual delivery truck from an antique shop called "The Better Time." A better time would be good enough sleep for Miley. She was twelve and her long blonde hair swayed behind along with the breeze. She squinted her eyes from the light. She has sky blue eyes that matched her mother's and soft fair skin as well just like her mother. She wore a light blue and white striped pajamas.

There were two men who had stepped out of the truck. One was standing near the truck and the other was in front of their door helping Hannah with some documents. Miley looked at them from above then looked at the clock; 10:07 it was, and looked back at the man talking to Hannah. The constant scraping sound stopped. Moments later it was the sound of plastic wrapper constantly piercing through Miley's ears. Hannah wasn't all that amused either. She wanted to unwrap the Longcase clock that she fell in love with at first sight. It was an antique clock.

Hannah was an antique collector. She lived with her husband Michael McLaren and daughter Miley McLaren. The family had recently moved into a new house.

It was not a very big house nor a small one either. It was a three bedroom, living room house along with a small, but fully equipped kitchen and two bathrooms. One is located inside and the other was outside near the empty wooden shed. The walls were concrete, with its exterior colored in light yellow, and the interior was in a light brown and yellow textured wallpapers. The wall dividing the living room and the kitchen was made from wood which was dark brown textured. Facing the living room were several paintings hanging on all four sides of walls. Several vases perfectly placed in different spots to balance the interior of the house. Some were kept inside a glass container, others placed on several small and medium sized tables which were used everyday to water the plants or collect pretty stones. A collection of silver and bronze plates were placed perfectly in a glass cabinet which held itself firmly on four big screws drilled inside the wall above the television set. A world war 1 rifle was placed on its holder on top of the fireplace and a world war 2 rifle placed right beneath it.

Out of the many paintings present, there existed three that were Hannah's prized possession and she took care of them as if they were her children. The first was titled, "Crawl Space." This was painted by "Ivan Krochevsky" in 1817. A group of people dug a hole beneath their houses to escape the tyranny of a so-called king who took the daughters of those people once they turned fourteen. It was impossible to run away from him without being killed. If they are caught while escaping the punishment was beheading them in front of others. So, they dug a small crawl space beneath their houses to mask the path as well as impossible to be chased by the king's guards. Now, the painting depicted a darkness which also led to a light on the other side of the crawl space. The sky was black and a hint of red mist flew along with the wind indicating the blood shed by the people. Some houses were barely standing and others belonged to the nobles who were no different from the peasants. They suffered the same fate as them. The ground was dead. Weed grew everywhere. Dogs were mostly skeletons, and the land was barren. The mud was pitch black. And the rocks bloody. While underneath those people was hope where many crawled through. Peasants or Nobles, underneath that dead land everyone was equal and on their knees. This was just a small and a new beginning towards a better future.

The second painting was titled, "Empty Carcass." This was painted by "Michelle Silva" in 1980. A small mud-covered carcass of a sheep rested on a vacant land where the weeds grew, where tables, chairs and toys lay rusted on the ground. Inside the body was emptiness. Not from the missing organs but the life it lived which depicts the lives we humans are living. We are not more than a sheep living in a hollow world with hollow emotions. Looking closely to the painting and inside the carcass is a black mist and behind the mist are structures built over a period of many years. Humanities making progress in technology, infrastructure, and many more. However, everything was masked behind that black mist. A sheep is just a shell. Inside it lies what we achieved and what was lost over that course of time. That one simple thing is "emotions."

The third painting was rather unusual. It was called "Coffin." The artist was unknown. As the name suggests, it was a painting of a coffin. And what was so different about this painting? No one really describes it perfectly. Everyone has their own story. As for Hannah it was, "A coffin." She'd say. "It is not necessary to find meaning in everything. The coffin is just a reminder of a day where we all would eventually be inside. Some might be cremated but the end result is the same. Death!" She'd further add. "For me, this is a gate to acceptance for what's to come next. A gate to a different world. This painting, I mean." She'd point at it and smile. A kind of smile you often see every time a person is describing their love for something. Hannah's smile was the same. Accepting and believable. You wouldn't find a hint of hesitation in her smile when she talks about this painting. Well, it is the same for all her collection.

Her sky-blue eyes will sparkle and her pink soft lips will turn into a smile which complements her fair skin and beautiful long blonde hair she tied into a horse tail. She wore a sleeveless light green blouse and dark blue jeans. Underneath she wore white socks and she hated wearing shoes inside the house. Her hands were covered in protective gloves. The kind of you see when someone handles something precious and fragile. That kind of glove which didn't make much difference in her daily life. She almost always wore it.

Michael was leaving for work. He wore a brown suit, his black hair was combed back and his beard was clean shaven. He wore his omega wrist watch, polished his shoes black, cut his nails clean and tucked a handkerchief in his right pocket of his pants. He carried a small brown briefcase, and kissed Hannah for the day. He looked up the window and waved his hand at Miley. She smiled and waved back. "Have a good day daddy." She said and kept waving until he was out of her sight.

The delivery men got inside the truck and left. Miley looked at the clock. 10:30 it was and she headed downstairs to look at the new clock. Hannah finished unwrapping the clock as soon as Miley got down. It was a big old wooden pendulum floor clock. There was a name and date plate at the bottom of it. "The Clock of Miss Balentine Fortune. Date - 09-1812. A gate to many and an exit to one." The name plate was rusty but seemed to be polished to keep the rust away from rotting the entire name plate and its content away. The clock itself was well kept. A dark brown wood and a golden pendulum hung beautifully still. The hands of the clock were in gold as well and the numbers in roman numerals were in black.

On top was a small circular container attached to it. The exterior was glass covering the sides while the top and bottom were the same wood as the clock. Inside it was a sort of merry-go-round structure without the handles to hold, in the middle was a woman and tiny girls statues wearing frock and ribbons around their waist stood around the woman making a full circle. Each of those small wooden dolls had few centimeters of distance between them. "I think it used to revolve in a circle during its glory days. But now, I'm not sure if it will anymore. The clock works as per the shopkeeper. I just have to wind it." She talked to no one in particular. Miley stood still hearing Hannah's murmurs. "One, two, three..." Hannah started counting. "Seven children." She rubbed her hair. "Odd number to place." She looked at Miley. "You like it?"

"I don't know." Miley shrugged. "It's just a clock." She said. But weird, she thought. No, A voice, not Miley's, spoke inside her head. She ignored it.

"Of course." Hannah sighed. "For you it is just a clock. For me, it is history. Maybe the last thing of Balentine Fortune." She rubbed Miley's hair. She adjusted the hands to the right time then pulled out a brass key from a small box and started winding. "Tadah." Hannah placed her hands spreading wide in front of her. "It works."

"It's just a clock mama." Miley said, not amused at all.

"Grumpy." Hannah narrowed her eyes. "Let's get you some breakfast." And now Miley was amused.

The pendulum slows down and is near the middle, but at other times it swings more heavily to one side or the other. It was an old clock. If you listen closely its cries like wood creaking which will follow you around. Just because it is an old clock and makes such creaky sounds, it could pull you into its past. It will make you wonder about its past, its existence till now and eventually pulling you towards it with a strange and curious force. The pendulum swings to each side marking its time and present memories to carry forward in the future. As the wall closes in, the clock further distances itself making it invisible and invincible for the time being and controlling everything in its own rhythm. That is the feeling one might get when in possession of such an antique clock. A clock that not only lived in its own history but looked forward to a future which will soon be a new history. This clock was that. And it was much more that was lurking, slithering like a snake, and slipping away from reality.