The Two Hundredth and Seventy Eighth Life-Part Three
When my mother finally arrived, I tried to remind her that my birthday was in two hours. It was 10:10. She swatted me away.
“We’ll find something to do,” She said, her words slurring. “Go to sleep… Go to the park… Get out of the house for once.”
I neglected to mention that we didn’t own a house and decided to to the park, walking silently toward the barren landscape of the park. By the time that I got there, all of my clothes waist-down were soaked with the snow. I sighed deeply. Wet clothes were incredibly uncomfortable, and didn’t get any more comfortable as time went on. I sat on one of the swings, my feet barely touching the ground. I was a small child for the age of eleven. My light eyes swung from the corner of the playground to the center of the pond, having had seen some movement. It was most likely some small animal, like a chipmunk. I soon discovered that no, it wasn’t a chipmunk, it was too big. I stood up, planning to run, when a girl fell out of the brush. I recoiled.
“Hey! Hey, you! Yeah, ClockBoy!” She yelled, clearly meaning me. I was slammed by something, by that name, my eyes closing as everything faded to black.
“ClockBoy,” many voices whispered in my ears. “You are ClockBoy. Two seven eight. Two seven eight.” Then I came to, and the girl was standing above me.
“Yeah, you have the eye.” She gestured roughly to my yellow eye, glaring at me.
“I-I think you’ve made a mistake.” I said, sentence not lilting off. “I’m Alvis.”
“No, no no. My family’s figured it out. You have the eye, never finish your sentences, and aren’t your headaches getting worse? ClockBoy, listen, please.” The girl appeared to be around my age, with long, flowing red hair that went to her waist.
“I am not ClockBoy.” I said firmly, though even I wasn’t so sure.
“How old are you, Clo- Alvis.”
“I’m almost twelve..” I instantly regretted answering the odd question.
“How many days! How many days!” She screamed instantly after my reply, grabbing my arms and shaking me violently. “How many!”
“Two hours?” I started to panic, struggling to get out of this girl’s arms. She was scaring me, the only emotion that I could ever feel. Normally it was just… Nothing.
“We have to go.” I couldn’t do anything. She was taller than I was, and stronger, and I was carried off into the night by the girl who called me ClockBoy.
“We’ll find something to do,” She said, her words slurring. “Go to sleep… Go to the park… Get out of the house for once.”
I neglected to mention that we didn’t own a house and decided to to the park, walking silently toward the barren landscape of the park. By the time that I got there, all of my clothes waist-down were soaked with the snow. I sighed deeply. Wet clothes were incredibly uncomfortable, and didn’t get any more comfortable as time went on. I sat on one of the swings, my feet barely touching the ground. I was a small child for the age of eleven. My light eyes swung from the corner of the playground to the center of the pond, having had seen some movement. It was most likely some small animal, like a chipmunk. I soon discovered that no, it wasn’t a chipmunk, it was too big. I stood up, planning to run, when a girl fell out of the brush. I recoiled.
“Hey! Hey, you! Yeah, ClockBoy!” She yelled, clearly meaning me. I was slammed by something, by that name, my eyes closing as everything faded to black.
“ClockBoy,” many voices whispered in my ears. “You are ClockBoy. Two seven eight. Two seven eight.” Then I came to, and the girl was standing above me.
“Yeah, you have the eye.” She gestured roughly to my yellow eye, glaring at me.
“I-I think you’ve made a mistake.” I said, sentence not lilting off. “I’m Alvis.”
“No, no no. My family’s figured it out. You have the eye, never finish your sentences, and aren’t your headaches getting worse? ClockBoy, listen, please.” The girl appeared to be around my age, with long, flowing red hair that went to her waist.
“I am not ClockBoy.” I said firmly, though even I wasn’t so sure.
“How old are you, Clo- Alvis.”
“I’m almost twelve..” I instantly regretted answering the odd question.
“How many days! How many days!” She screamed instantly after my reply, grabbing my arms and shaking me violently. “How many!”
“Two hours?” I started to panic, struggling to get out of this girl’s arms. She was scaring me, the only emotion that I could ever feel. Normally it was just… Nothing.
“We have to go.” I couldn’t do anything. She was taller than I was, and stronger, and I was carried off into the night by the girl who called me ClockBoy.