Tick Tock

• Madison Schmidt, Grade 9, Isis District State High School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

Cupping the delicate ball of light in my hands, I gently placed it inside the face of the clock and as soon as I did the rhythmic ticking of its heartbeat began. Tick-tock, tick-tock the majestic structure paced as I sat in front of it in silence, peacefully listening to the continuous pattern as it repeated in a melodic fashion.

This is my favourite part of being, Fate. Placing the souls of the soon-to-be born children into the clocks that are created to time the short life-span of human beings. Though of course, there cannot be a sun and no moon or light without darkness: likewise to this, the contradicting moment to my seconds of joy are the harrowing times of deep sorrow when I am forced to take out the lifless souls and relive the deceased's final moments before I can expel the glow less, black sphere into the void of time and space.

On the contrary, to what many believe I have little to no control over a human's personality, actions or future; however, if I did, I know who I would assust in life first.

Her name is Jezebell May Williams and for some unknown reason, I can feel a unique connection to her existence, even without being in the presence of her soul-clock. Being near her timer stirs a distant memory from my long-forgotten past life, always drifting in front of me; just out of my reach.

I know a lot about the little girl, just as I know a lot about every sprit, and her whole world revolves around the death of her father when she was only seven years old. Unfortunately, Jezebells own mother blames her for his sudden death; and time has not been kind. Two years after the dismal events that occured and the poor girl has been so strong, taking hit after hit: both mental and physical.

Whenever I watch her from my place in the universe I feel more and more guilty knowing that three, and only three beings know of whats happening and do nothing to stop it. I stood, and walked away from the beating clock and towards Jezebell's where I felt the familar rush of nostalgia tear through my repressed emotions and memories.

A frown appeared on my face as I approached her life-timer, something was wrong. The hands on the silvery fave of the clock slowed with every passing second. It hit me at that moment like a tonne of bricks, Jezebell May Williams was dying.

The impact of my reality terrified me for I had never noticed how much the nine-year old warrior affected my normally numb emotions. Ever since I had become Fate my feelings have always been an illusion to help manipulate and make me believe that a part of my long dead human heart still beat within my hollow chest. It was simply impossible that this fear is an illusion.

Without thinking, I places my hands on the clock and let out a sharp breath as I felt myself being pulled into Jezebell's lonely, broken world.