Okay to explain (you can ignore if you want) I am going to shoot for updating at least every weekend. If i don't update one weekend then I will double update for all my five reads lol. In addition for this story called Time; most of my stories are really short due to me being an impatient person. So, Time will be consisted on multiple parts (if you will). Also, I write a lot about romance. For once, another story will be coming out and it will not mainly be about romance. :) okay sorry for rambling. Happy reading.
*******
Candles consume every space in the darkly lit hallway. Paintings of old men whom I have forgotten the name of, hang desperatley on the cheap rusted nails borded into the crumbling wall. Old, watered, moldy carpet runs the flooring but can't seem to keep my feet at a healthy tempature. Dark purple walls seem to enclose my well- built body and give my normally pale skin a dark healthy glow for once. A grandfather clock seems to mock my heartbeat as it swings down the end of the hallway. Mozart spills out of nearby record player. Time seems lost before the sun drops and the moon rises for a new legacy.
A husky voice sounds behind me. Shivers corse through my already freezing body. Forced to be in the same spot seems more scarier instead of running for you life. Prayers run through my already preoccupied brain as she nears me.
She strokes my black hair with her pale boney fingers. Pushing herself behind me, I can feel her hot yet cold beathe on my neck. The rings on my fingers seem tighter as more bodies fill the room around me. The cold church suddenly seems hot as all their eyes are upon me and I want to take off my leather jacket.
"We poured the gas. It's not 'catchin." A nervous male voie sounds.
I mentally thank him. The silence was getting to uncomfortable. Eyes continue to stare into my back while I stand here, not able to take my eyes off the grandfather clock that tells the wrong time.
"They were expecting us." The woman behind me speaks. She leaves me alone but the others continue to stay.
What is so ammusing watching me stare at a clock? My teared combat boots seem to tear open the floor when I step toward the clock. The walk toward the clock lasts just as long a never ending snake. Reaching the tower of time, I kneel down and run my scarred fingers over the structure of the clock. Everything here in this church is out of order and broken. Everything but this clock. This tower.
Maybe the church owner had a certain connection to the clock and left it there. But they were expecting us. Why didn't they at least break it so it would be at rest? They all know what we do. Sorrow courses through my emotionally numb body. Here we are about to burn this church, and I feel bad about ruining this single clock that has no signifigant meaning to me? If that isn't the definition of pathetic, then I don't know what is. Pathetic is what I feel, but I am feared as the most dangerous and offensive person in the country, maybe the whole planet. I should be out and scaring people, not standing here and developing an adolescent crush on a clock.
"Leader." A calm dark voice calls. "It won't catch."
I turn away from the clock and stare at the people that observed me from before. They all seem so innocent and caring. We all care, we are just lost. I almost laugh at "we". I have been found, but I was born into this. It's not like I can just leave. I would either die, or be killed.
I nod to the dark purpled haired woman. She nods toward the other room, brighter than the one we are in, but more formal and has a less cozy feel. The rest of the peole I grew up with stand in the room looking at me, trying to get a reaction from me. My mouth twitches, trying to frown at all the sad people around me. Selfish is what I am, not pathetic. I am found, yet I continue to stick around these friends. I give them false hope that they're not lost. Not alone. But they are.
