Our Clock is TIcking

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
carol beccins is a normal girl. she has friends, a little sister, and a psycho aunt. the only abnormal thing about her life is her looks. with a mix of golden and blue eyes, black hair with lilac swirls, and skin as pale as snow, she won't ever fit in to the capital, tallahassee, tennessee. or the new school that she's been forced to go to; but there's someone trying to find her. someone trying to take her down for a reason she doesn't know.

Submitted: January 26, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 26, 2017



“We are sworn into secrecy among all sisters. We will not allow you to be harmed or lose in our war, and you will be protected at all costs. You are someone we can not afford to to lose, and that means you will be taken care of. You will be quiet of the organization and speak of it to none other than your sisters here. Do you accept your place?”

Well, will  you accept your place? Or will you run from what you thought was  always escapable? Surely you must know somewhere that you can never run away. So choose. That’s all life will be from here on out. Yes or no? Run or face it? Time is only of essence, not reason.’
“...I accept my place.”
That was only the beginning of our misfortune. I will only pray that I survive and maybe I can be forgiven and forgotten. Pray. Pray to a god whom I can never believe in.

Entry 01
May got me this diary today. She says I need to write in it often since I don’t have a mom to vent to. That comment made me hurt. She told me that today will be a good day. Can I really believe an eleven year old girl? Shouldn’t I be saying those things to her? Maybe she just matured faster. That’s probably it. Well, today we start over new. It’s going to be weird because I don’t have Summer with me anymore. We have to go to a new school and now we have an older figure to watch us; preferably, I don’t want to be here. Could things get any worse from here? Probably. On the flip side, it’s more than a “good chance” that it will get horribly worse. I’ve got to get going; May’s calling me for dinner.


 I stood in front of the full-sized mirror and stared at my deep sea colored dress. It wasn’t something I would consider but I guess the choice was a good one, in May’s opinion anyway.  
“You’re so beautiful, sis! I’m sure you’ll find a group in a matter of minutes!!”  May exited the closet, backing out with her arms full of different accessories, jewels, and shoes. She was doing her best with what little time she had left.
I smiled, turning to face her but I saw nothing. May had disappeared and in her place stood a mirror. I turned around and guess what? Another mirror. I spun to my left and there was my reflection. The reflection showed how pathetic I was, how helpless I felt, how fearful I’d always been. “May?! May, where did you go?!” I called out to the empty room. I turned to face my right and this time I saw myself, the same old me with the same long black hair and fringed bangs, but I wasn’t in the gown anymore; I was in a tattered old school uniform and my frail skin was covered in scratches, bruises, blood.  My breathing picked up it’s pace, trying to catch up with the speed of my unnerving heartbeat. “May, what’s going on?!” I was calling out to nothing, I knew I was, but I kept calling Mya’s name, hoping that her enthusiastic voice would answer my own.
“One more time, May. Try it again.”
I spun at the sound of the voice, towards my left, and saw that the mirror was gone only to see a small toddler and a kid. I went to touch it, hoping to grasp the loose memory, but my hand slid through and I soon fell in.
“Mom!! Papa!!! Please!! Mom!!!!!”
The scream echoed and I bolted upward in an erect position, panting and shivering violently. My white tee-shirt clung to my skin like it was in need of consolation, and I raised a hand to my forehead, my clammy palm felt cold against my skin; and my blonde hair stuck to my face, my neck, my cheeks, even the hollow behind my ear. “What...what was that?” It was sure enough that I was totally freaked out.

 There was always a time that I’d go to sleep early, like earlier than eight, and my dreams would get all funky, slowly distorting over to nightmares or off-the-chart wacky. Either way, both outcomes were unsettling. She always said it was my overly large imagination going to work on my brain, waking it up so I could filter out more senseless babble in my notebooks. It was a very, very  doubtful statement. I remember one dream. It was so morbid but I could never bring myself to tell May. She’d get worried and stressed out; she’s only a twelve-year-old girl.

Looking outside, I see the rising sun and I stare for one peaceful moment. All the colors were so dazzling. They smeared and blended like oil pastels. It was like, even though they were fiery colors, they were my comforting hug which warmed me from head to toe. It was the moments like these that I loved, when I'm sure of everything and happy in my own home' not worrying about me or May or food. Just the peaceful outside and the sun providing me warmth, melting away my fear and clammy skin. Then I realized this wasn't our house anymore. It was our Aunt Paige's house in Florida.

I gently slid out of my comforter, which failed to keep me warm even though we are in Florida, and trudged over to the closet. I glanced over to May's messy bed and smiled, leaning on the door of the closet. "Always being messy..." I mumbled then turned to grab my clothes, continuing to smile at the memories in my mind.
“Sis? Why are you trying to get your clothes on in the dark?" Light flooded the room as May spoke from behind me. I kept my eyes shut tightly then gradually opened them to allow them to adjust to the light.
“Because I'm the greatest at doing stupid things," I joked and dug through my clothes which I could now see clearer in the light.  May giggled at my comment; I melted seconds later. "You're so silly! Well, we have to get ready!! Auntie Paige is gonna drive us to school today!"
I breathed out quietly, almost silently, then nodded. "What time is it, May?" I was surprised I even managed to wake up in time, let alone wake up at all.
"Uhm...it's about seven thirty?" She seemed hesitant.
"We have to be at school by eight thirty, right?" I knew the answer was yes because it was all May had been talking about since we moved here on Friday. She was so excited to move here when we got the call, and she was begging me to let her come get us. Paige seemed more suspicious than loving, but I chose to keep my cool about it because it isn't fair to guess just by the suspicious call, the already set rooms, the items being bought, and the pictures of us from Christmas and birthday parties. But hey, I won't say anything so May will stay happy.
"I hear my girls!" Aunt Paige peeked in and smiled brightly, matching May's enthusiasm. "Are you two ready to head over to Goldshore Elementary and High School?" She came in with a box of small doughnut holes and allowed May to hug her thighs.
“Yes! Are those for us?" She pointed to the box of doughnuts.  "Yes! You guys will eat them while I drive! We can take a detour!" She winked my way as an attempt to make me like her. "Who says us girls can't be a little late for school, right, Carol?"  
I couldn't help but to nod and smile at her feeble attempt. Truth was, she was doing her best to be our guardian and I couldn't complain; I sincerely missed the company of an older person. "Aunt Paige, that's bad!!" May sprung back, like she was surprised, and crossed her little arms. She didn't enjoy being bad or breaking the rules.
"Then I guess Carol will eat all of the doughnuts," Aunt Carol said, shrugging in mock sadness then waltzed out of the room, May following after with her high-pitched whine and begging.
I shook my head and sighed. "I'm not even dressed..." I muttered then looked down at my unevenly balanced socks and baggy tee. This was surely going to be a long day.
 I finished pulling on my dark wash jeans, which were so tight that they were even more uncomfortable than skirts, and lilac hoodie that read an ad for my aunt’s work. I think she was a lawyer, maybe? I don’t quite recall what it was because I simply didn’t care about her, or her background.
Apparently, she had bought us new clothes days before calling, but that doesn’t explain why the beds, the interior, and all of the clothes were neatly put in their place. It also didn’t explain why the room was decorated and laid out to our perfect expectations. It was as though she had just hacked into our brains and knew us before she met us. Thinking of it just gave me the chills. The only thing I refused to wear were her socks. I love mine too much. Speaking of which, my box wasn’t set in my closet like I had put it when I saw the room. “Aunt Paige,” I peeked my head into the hall, my plain coffee brown hair falling towards the floor in curtain, and called out,” where are my  box of socks?”
“I put in the hallway closet! I thought it was junk!” She sounded far away.
I rolled my eyes and mocked her. “ ‘I thought it was junk,’ she says. Yeah, my name definitely wasn’t on it to clarify that it was mine,” I muttered as I slid my whole body through the door frame and glanced to the right.
I wondered where May had gone, considering she had been chasing Aunt Paige only moments ago. Well, that is what happens when you try to pry doughnuts from a little girl’s life. I remember one time, when I had come home with her on Halloween, and she went right to the floor and dumped all her candy out; she began to sort it in categories of chocolate, caramels, hard candies, gum, and plastic-like candies. Then, she sorted it by the companies they were made, and how much she loved the candy. She was so elated when I gave her my bag of candy that she gave me a Choco-Bird. It was so nice to see her smile in hard times.
Shuffling my way down the hall, I ran a hand through my hair at an attempt to take out the tangles from bed hair. Something yanked at my neck causing me to gag, and I stopped to rub my neck then see what it was that choked me. I found the silver cross with sapphire encrusted points then pulled it back down to it’s usual place in between my collarbones. I don’t remember where I got it, or how, but I know that I’ve always had it with me. It’s the only thing that I have that makes me, in a sense, me. It’s weird but it’s what I use to say that I have a point of existence. That I’m not some pointless orphan. Of course, that’s what I tell myself so I feel better.
I turned to my left, and calmly placed my hand on the brass door knob. It was cold against my sweaty palms. I swore that if I was killed due to the amount of clutter that fell out of the closet, I was going to haunt my aunt for the rest of her life. Turning the knob, I opened the door to stop in my tracks and gasp. I was standing in a full penthouse view! Her entire north wall was glass, pure glass, giving off the glare of the risen sun. I shielded my eyes. “Jesus, Aunt Paige...you live alone,” I stated then let my hand slip from the knob before venturing forward.
Her bed was laid out to fit the corner between two vertices of the wall; it was like the headboard was etched from the wall. Beside it, a mini refrigerator, most likely filled with soda based on her maturity, and a carpet made of pure white, etches of swirly designs and colors all over it. Her floor was polished wood, shining like pearls on display; I edged my way towards the vanity desk beside, what I think, was her bathroom door, and stared at the different variety of makeup scattered across the flat surface. I stared in shock at the sight, and traced the curved woodcarvings with my nail, surprised at how smooth it was. Like a newborn baby’s skin. I began to pick up tubes of lipstick, then brushes for eyeshadow, and looked closely at the names and brands. Ruby red, carnation pink, morning dew blue. I went to pick up a bottle of perfume but I was interrupted by a knock on the doorway.
“You like it?”
I jerked my head up to see Aunt Paige then stepped back in guilt. “I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to snoop, I was just awed at your spacey room.”
She laughed in a tight, choked kind of way.
I winced at the starched sounds.
“Dear, it’s ok. It’s a new house, a new environment, a new way of life. I understand fully that you are curious, wanting to see more than what you knew. If I recall, you only lived in a smelly apartment in New York?” She knit her auburn eyebrows together in concern.
I ran my first three fingers across a small area of her desk and nodded. It wasn’t a topic I thoroughly enjoyed talking about. “But I made it the best I could so May was happier,” I reply and smile slightly. “She loved the forts and tents I made out of blankets, and the candles I found outside of Beverly’s Gift Shop. She said it reminded her of Christmas.” It was a fond memory.
“You’re such a sweet girl. Would you like to keep one of my luxury items?” She waved her hand towards the array of makeup, smiling from ear to ear. I could only imagine what she had seen on my face.
“You’re serious? I can have it?”
“Of course; pick any of them, and you can keep it.”
I turned towards the mirror then allowed my hand to float above the items. It wasn’t everyday I got something expensive. I wasn’t used to a queen--and twin--sized bed being in the same room with a flat screen television; it was different from the little apartment in the suburbs of New York. My eyes finally stopped on a small bottle of lipstick the color of burgundy, and I reached for it. Then stopped. I wanted red. So my hand went from burgundy to bright, ruby red then snatched it up. “I want this one.”
Her chuckle made it to my ears from the doorway. “Go on, and take it. It suits your dark hair,” said Aunt Paige in a light tone.
I picked it up gently then squeezed it, pressing the cold metal into my palm. "Thank you, Aunt Paige. I promise to take care of it," said I.
"I trust you will. Now let's go before May eats all of the donuts." She smiled and turned to face the hall, peering over her shoulder back at me. "And so you can tell everyone who your Aunt Paige is."
I sighed.
She looked at me in confusion.
“I still didn’t find my socks,” I pointed out, wiggling my toes.
She laughed nonchalantly, waving her wrist in a circle. “Dear, no one in Florida wears tennis shoes unless they’re wearing water shoes!”
Raising an eyebrow, I clenched my teeth in irritation. “Oh. I see.” I tried not to let Aunt Paige know that her “paradise” was my idea of torture. I just wanted to go back to New York, be with Summer and Grant, spending the winters with snowball fights and admiring the tree in Times Square; they could spend time together helping out in the “Toys for Tots” organization or baking cookies for the elderly homes, because that’s who they were. They were young kids who tried to make New York slightly better for those who weren’t fortunate enough to be rich. But it wasn’t much. “Well, what do you have in mind for me to wear?”
“Oh, you’re going to love them!” She turned and left the room before a few minutes passed and her head peered in. “Are you coming?”
“Oh!” I stuffed the tube in my pocket then followed Aunt Paige--she led me to a closet full of shoes. Who even has a closet specifically for shoes?-- to pick out my newest pair of shoes.
“Pick any pair that you’d like, dear. I always get new ones on Sunday’s,” she said in a sickly thin voice. Guess someone was never taught to share.
“Are you really sure? I can just wear a pair of tennis shoes. It’s no big deal if I wear them anyway,” I offered, noticing her uncomfortable aura.
“Oh no, no, no, no, no! You have to get a new pair! Please, pick your favorite!”
Sighing, I looked at the selections I have. If this lady loved skin, she sure showed it. At least ninety percent of the shoes either had laces, gaps between the fabrics, or just plain, out there, no top sandals. Half of them probably had heels! “I’ll take these,” I finally said, grabbing the least girly pair she had, which was hard since her closet was more girly than me as a baby, and held them up. They were wedges, but with black fabric over them, and had the toe of the shoe cut off so you could just see the heads of each toe. It had a belt that wrapped around and could be adjusted to the right amount of tight pain--you can really tell I hate heels but at least I knew what wedged sandals are!--with a silver buckle to top it. Overall, it was simple and that was the only thing I was grateful for.
“You’ll look great in that!” Aunt Paige was smiling like she had just won the spot of CEO in her company, and got a several hundred dollar raise.
May came around the corner with powder encircling her mouth and a pout. “Aunt Paige, we’re late for school!”

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