Time of a Mad ManHow many times a night did he hear the clock tick?More Like This
Every second was another moment in all of time and space and history. And here he was. In this room.
In a single tick, everything in life can change. You may die, you may be born, you may be happier than ever before, you may feel the universe is crashing. But the clock keeps ticking, and the world still spins, indifferent.
In this room, time was different. Walls stark white. No windows, no clock; his only indication of time was that ticking. Some nights it consumed him. But it also kept his sanity. The only noise in his cell was the clock.
Years had passed and days had gone, but how long had it been for him? The voices had stopped coming. They no longer floated through the brilliantly bright walls. Now it was only the clock.
Some days he considered the possibility he was mad; the thought never stayed with him for long though.
How old was he now? He counted seconds on the clock and thought of the world. The universe went on, unto
Making Father Proud I sat on the floor panting, and he held me. He was safe.More Like This
He gently took my hand in his. He stroked my forearm as his other hand disappeared into his jacket pocket again. This time instead, he removed a syringe. He meant to inject my wrist with the serum; the poison I knew was to change me into one of those awful creatures. The creatures I had just tried to protect him from. I begged him to stop but he just smiled and told me not to fight it. The prick barely hurt. I could feel warmth spread to my arm, then to my shoulder, and finally my entire chest. It was numbing. I noticed he had had two beagle puppies brought in. I felt so dizzy and dumb.
I closed my eyes and pretended to be somewhere else.
I blacked out.
When I woke up I was in his arms again, on the floor, sobbing. My fingers and legs were smeared in blood. His long white lab-coat had scarlet streaks, and crimson fingerprints. My fingerprints. I began to shake