The Maddening Ticking of the Kensington Clock by C.W John
-Opal Gibson
‘Tick tock, tick tock’ the tumultuous ticking of the Kensington oak clock filled the virgin house, rectifying the deafening silence of the lifeless home. Each tick of the irksome clock felt like a line of thought kidnapped from my mind. The begrimed face aimed at the grey, tedious floor shunning a reflection of my two, sorrowing daughters stained by grief. My youngest daughter Sally rummaged through her old toys positioning them in separate piles of cardboard boxes. Her personality trapped by her mood. She was wearing bootcut, chic blue jeans twinned with a simple, pearl white t shirt. Contrasting from a month ago when she skipped around in her rose dress curtained by a flamboyant jumper and a quirky jacket. My other daughter Arabella (Bella) sat pitifully on the ground. Under her eyes painted with a charcoal skin tone pairing with her bleached face. She and him were entangled together like puzzle pieces sending the grieving girl walking round aimlessly as if she were a deserted shell. Both daughters sharing a dark spruce hair colour and a round button nose just like his. Abruptly, five piercing strikes shot the door relieving me off the clock’s clutches as I slumped towards the feeble door.
I peeled open the door, the gleaming light creeping in my eyes and the crisp, pleasant aroma of the sliced grass inhabited my nostrils for the first time in weeks. Camouflaged in front of me was a radiant, auburn head of hair stealing my eyes with its tone. With the racket of the clock slowly echoing away in my mind I grasped my focus. Stood linear in front of me was a casually dressed man donning a pair of flawless, brown, oxford shoes complementing his umber jumper and that unforgettable auburn hair. Nudging me to realise who was stood in front of me. Talbot Etaine has pulled us from a depth in our lives deeper than that of the marina trench. He was Gabe’s closest friend.
A bundle of flowers was plunged forward. Talbot was presenting a housewarming gift and a bottle of fine wine. The flowers luminating the dull house and the type of flowers dragging me back to a memory of mine and Gabe’s wedding, the same flowers sat parallel to us on our table quilting me with joy and placing me in a safe atmosphere like nothing could ever go wrong. As he shortly strolled off next door to me, the light in front of me dimmed by the lack of his auburn hair.
That raw, pure odour of the grass gently tip-toed more up my nose, pointing me to the front garden of the house right of me adjusting me to see Ramona Sharpe kneeled to the emerald floor strapped in grass tainted overalls reminding me of Talbot warning me she is ruthless and sensitive to loud noise around the neighbourhood, notorious for filing complaints. If only she sat in a room with that blaring clock.
One foot through the decaying front door and the mood fainted, through the portal to a dimension where happiness was isolated, through to a place where reality was tough to ignore. Before I knew it, ponderous time sped up the day, night-time coating the sky in a murky glow. Laying in a bed unbalanced by the missing weight of my husband was desolate. His presence alone calmed me to sleep, of all nights for my bed to be cold it is the one where he is not there to warm it for me. My mind despaired for clarity on the abrupt, wretched death of my adoring husband. I was in the dark over his murder, nobody to blame. How could I move on from something when I do not know what I am moving on from?
The silence of the hollow home was fragmented by a muffled note of a snapping noise alarming me of my surroundings. The noise became more audible, louder and closer to me like the shot of a camera making me feel like my body was locked in a foetus position, tightening my position like a snail in its shell. Something was observing me in my helpless sleep. I was possessed with the will to stay awake, fixating on the onyx corner of the room hiding whatever was waiting for me.
Bella Gibson-
I peered at the senior clock studying its time-19:58. A month ago Sally and I would be perched on the end of our snug beds, protected by the walls of our blushing room wrapped in youthful decorations, sat patiently waiting for my Dad to peruse us stories at 8- o clock every night, without exceptions. 19:59 struck the clock, one minute closer and one boring pattern of words my dad muttered would send me into a stubborn slumber. Sally however, had already managed to fall asleep on these beds of glass. The final tick commencing 8-o clock crowded the room with its twang. I wish I could hear his consoling voice again, the gentle tone of an anchor weighing my troubled mind down and to be gifted with that ecstasy feeling like I was somebody’s main priority. But his benevolent voice had diminished forever.
Forthwith to reminiscing over those times at 8-o clock a voice promptly murmured into my ear. My heart galloped and my eyes widened like an owl but for some reason I did not move, captured by this voice that infused me with adrenaline. It felt familiar. I squinted at the ash ceiling above me striding to overcome the obstacle of my heart pounding through my chest, its rapid beating making it difficult to make out what this voice was saying but as it drew closer the tension was relieved only to be sped up again by the words this voice was whispering. I rolled to my side to be gazing at the blank wall, but the voice continued. Each word I could feel the anxiety creep up my spine like the grim reaper sliding his cold finger down my back.
‘‘Gibber you need to leave and take your mum and sister; it isn’t safe here. By this time tomorrow you will realise your not alone in that house’’ uttered the voice.
My dad only called me Gibber.
Opal Gibson-
The sinister corner continued to stalk me in my doze commanding the hairs on my neck to stand to attention. Its eerie shadow crept towards my bed, the vexing snapping sound getting closer, the insidious presence getting closer. Out of nowhere, a piercing shriek cried out from my daughter’s bedroom. At a stroke, my frail body hurried to the room abandoning my mind that was still imprisoned by the fear of the unknown. My gut felt like it had been jabbed, nervous and desperate so see my daughters. I finally entered and the bellowing stopped, putting the massive trap at complete silence once again. Bella rubbed her stressed head on my shoulders making her tepid tears crawl down my back. Her weeping went on, but no words left her mouth except the priority of leaving that room. Still with her head strapped to my side we creeped over to my room where I feared the worse. That unknown presence crawling over me.
As soon as I entered the room, I was struck by a gelid breeze stiffening my body like an aged door. I could even taste the Baltic, iron taste of the air stinging my tongue with the lingering of this bitter air, like blood. We struggled into the sandpaper beds, my head and arms locked around Bella’s, mellowing out my glacial body. I tried not to move my head, but I strained my eyes to see the window agape. Peculiar, I must have left it open.
Before I knew it, the crust from my eyes was peeling off forcing me to peer at the harsh daylight. I had slept for hours on end my carcass felt at peace for the first time in weeks. I was swallowed by the sultry bed purifying my lungs with the untainted, pure scent of the linen sheets. I tumbled to my side to plaster my arms around my daughter only to be grabbing the musty air. The bed spat me back out and my rigid joints splintered delivering a cruel bolt of lightning through my ankles with each footstep spent searching for Bella, my tender toes wedged against the vigorous floor. I got to the bottom step of the stairs, the blur of my body racing around still tinted across the lonely halls, I finally paused at the front door, that pleasant grass perfume intruding my nose once again and similarly my attention was looted off me by a tidy head of vivid, auburn hair. Sally and Bella’s mouths were stripped naked boasting their pearl, white smiles the world had not viewed in weeks. Stood beyond them was Talbot striding towards me with the two of them, all three glistening with laughter. I wanted to scold the two of them for not telling me they were on the front playing with Talbot, but this rare happiness healed my injured joints.
“The girls were pondering round doing nothing, so I entertained them for you, bet that’s weight of your shoulders” Talbot boasted.
“If sitting down making out shapes on the walls is exciting then they were already plenty entertained” I chuckled.
He giggled and gave Sally the cricket bat as I invited him in. Seeing that cricket bat opened my memories of Gabe playing with the kids, frolicking around playing cricket but cricket never really crossed my mind.
Talbot skipped through the door closing it after him slinging his crimson jacket on the floor which dripped to the floor. He trotted around like he was at home but his whole demeanour switched completely as he sat down opposite me. His posture arose like the morning sun and his wide smile relaxed.
“Is something wrong Talbot?” I questioned.
Talbot took a moment to reply like his words were knotted around his tongue, but he untangled them and broke the white noise.
“Opal, I know this seems abrupt but playing cricket with your kids showing how great we got along paired with the fact we’re now neighbours has really got me thinking” he trembled and waited for a reply.
Confusion strangled me so I sat in silence as he pursued his tangled words. He gave no context on his words he just talked about our memories together and soon words turned to actions. As he leaned in closer to me his subtle scent of aftershave crawled up my neck stalked by a faint odour of whiskey. My hands acted and barged him off me, my mind still in an abyss.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I just wasn’t expecting it “I apologised. I did mean to do it; how could he even attempt that after all these years we have enjoyed as friends? My eyes scanned his body language noticing his gradually tensing hands.
“Oh, don’t be stupid I’m the one who shouldn’t have gone in for it I completely got it wrong that’s my mistake” his hands softening with each word he spoke, dragging an obtuse smile across his face. I chucked him a grin and he left kindly, but I could infer he genuinely did not mean it. He is still an enchanting, sweet man but my heart was in Gabe’s grave.
To clear the jungle in my head I flumped onto the edge of Bella’s bed letting my skin melt into the sooty blanket. But with each harassing tick of the clock the blanket rejected me, and discomfort plagued me once again until I checked the clocks time-16:39. The bland palette of the room vexed me, thinking of this deceased environment my poor girls had to adjust to. This room could use some red in it.
The clocks racket finally fading from my ears I reeled in the girls to warm up from the bipolar weather. The flaxen glow trading for a pale, lustreless crowd of cheerless clouds. It spat a singular drop of water at me shuffling down my nose turning like a car at my cheek directing the drop to my forlorn, parched lips. The dirty fresh taste claimed my mouth.
At last, the girls arrived at the door, only they were one item short of what they brought out beforehand. The cricket bat had disintegrated into thin air, not a clue of its location scattered by. A simple bat would seem harmless, but it was one of the main things I remember about him that brought me glee. It was Gabe’s cricket bat and him and the girls would play in all sorts of temperature- the balmy heat, the biting rain and even the wintry snow. Gabe was already dead when he drew his last brutal breath, I did not want him to die again by his memories being drew away also.
Bella And Sally scurried upstairs, Bella still wearing a mask of sorrow she put on a month ago, but this time was different she seemed different when she came and sat in the house likewise to when she was playing with Talbot and Sally. I could tell something was the matter with her, I grafted to entertain her, but the concrete wall of her smile did not crack. 17:34- the clock read; my hassled body and mind needed a vacation, so I steadily plodded to the shower walking down the never-ending halls. My clothes felt like weights and each piece of clothing I removed I felt as if my height increased and my skin was the only cover I needed. I flung my bra over the bathroom making it latch onto the toilet handle then I proceeded to step in the untouched shower.
The shower sprayed out in a vast gush of water as if it were the first-time it had come out of the head but as the stream continued, I felt leisure as the water cleaned my mind and body. Rubbing the slushy shampoo through my knotted roots made me think clearly knowing I had some alone time, and I was not being harassed by that galling ticking. I slid my rough hands across my doughy breasts and enjoyed remembering his body inches from mine only thin streams of water separating our bodies, I could feel myself being in touch with the woman burning to be free. I swear I could hear a noise coming from outside it sounded like giggling, so I spread my grin and rejoiced in the hope it was Sally and Bella having fun, those giggles sounded so excited.
Out of the blue, the water stream broke off leaving its cloud of colourless steam watching around me. As soon as the water finished the consistent chilly breeze of the house caught up to me sliding its hands around my shoulders shocking me into snatching my towel and drying off ordering the steam to finally take refuge. I slipped into my knickers and a bit of shampoo remained in my eye, so I frantically wafted my hands around the toilet trying to grab it only to conclude my bra was missing. I wondered if it was Bella getting back to her old self, she and him were always playing pranks on me. My face managed another smile and I sauntered to my room to dress into some relaxing attire. Tonight, I just wanted to chill out with the kids.
I thought my room was the place the temperature would not follow me, but the thin draft of my window populated my room. The kids must have left it ajar while I showered. I stood in the mirror for a second suited in my pyjamas cringing over my pastel pigment. A month ago, Gabe would be like a parrot over my shoulder preaching to me how beautiful I was, but that empty space made my thighs look thicker and I felt like I had put on weight. As I observed my body in the mirror, I saw standing behind me was a wicked shadow stood gazing at me from behind casting a tenebrous figure across the corners of my empty room. My body solidified and my jaw grinded against my teeth being disabled by fear, I acted like I could not see the dusky silhouette, but knowing it was watching me denied me from moving.
The murky shape edged away, the opportunity powering my limbs melting the fear that froze them. If he did not come for me it was Bella and Sally, only rooms away from becoming ruby stains on the dull walls. With this thought glued to my mind I lunged towards to the presence, the closer I got it did not move only when 1 meter was the space between us but without warning this shadow bellowed a scream.
“Bella?!” I cried as the anti-climax hit my mind like a tsunami.
Bella rubbed her fatigued eyes squinting as I put my arm over her to console her and wipe her briny tears away heading to the kitchen as she stuttered the words, she was so timid to say.
As my back laid uneasily on the unyielding chair Bella was sat facing me trying desperately to catch her breathe.
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth Bell you don’t have to rush just tell me what’s the matter” I helplessly questioned. She stuck her hands out from under the table placing them next to mine, she swiped a finger by mistake across my palm. Her hands were that of a corpse.
“I heard Dad last night we need to leave now please mum I’m scared, soon it’s going to be late, I’m sorry” she rushed out all out at once, her muddled words stringing together fear in my mind after mentioning Gabe. The last few weeks I had been disconnected from Sally and Bella and now was the time I acted like the Mum.
“Bella, I know it’s hard without your father trust me I do but right now me and you need to be brave for Sally and each other, don’t stress over silly things, you’re strong we can pull through” I declared to her kindly using my authority for the first time in weeks. She tugged her fidgeting fingers to her mouth wrapping her teeth around her chewed nails.
“No mum you don’t understand something bad is going to happen at 8 o clock we need—” she begged as I cut her off midway.
I grasped her hiemal hands “No Bella listen to me I promise you as long as we are together me and Talbot won’t let anything happen to you this is our fresh start. We are safe.” I told her optimistically. Straight after those inspirational words left my mouth a shattering smash came from behind me and hefty strike beat my fragile head evacuating the colour from my eyesight as my body collapsed…
‘Tick, tock, tick, tock’ that deafening clock filled my fuzzy head with discomfort once again as the bland colours returned to my eyes. My knees and wrists throbbing from a friction burn while the rope strangled my body, and my dazed mind came to making me realise where I was, the girls room. Even within all the gloomy colours of the room I could still see the hench shape stood in front of me staring into my eyes waiting for me patiently. His eyes hypnotised at mine while I tried to keep still but he saw me move pushing a chuckle out of the figure. The person raised its hand miles above my head as if he were ready to thrash my petrified soul from my body. He swung his hand down so fast the gelid air pushed against my face blowing the fearful tears creeping out my eyes. Right above my head he paused, quieting my growing whimper. From his pocket he reached for something that looked like some sort of sapphire strap. Unhurriedly, dragged it out of his pocket still with a milky, wide smile. Before me he dangled a radiant blue bra leaning into it sniffing it deeply all while staying locked to my eyes. I had no time given to process what was going on I just wanted to be free, I felt trapped in the palms of his huge hands. My eyes searched for a way out being interrupted by the ticking, I saw Bella and Sally laid asleep under the clock in a hoard cerise blood from their heads. Only me and him were there.
Thoughts could not be placed together everything was happening at once, I cried desperately but my body was not mine to control trapped in the hands of rope. I peered up worryingly seeing him getting closer some colour creeping out the shadow and his massive hands peeling off his balaclava, an intense auburn glow staring right at me as pleasure dilated his pupils still locked with mine.
“I killed the obstacle between us to be with you here and that still wasn’t good enough for you, you ungrateful bitch” he screamed at me in a rage, that scent of whisky splashing my nose and spit hitting my face.
I screamed as loud as I could, the longer my scream echoed the harder his fists tensed as he furiously roared in my in my face.
Mine and his screaming both cancelled by 5 even louder pounds at the decrepit door following a woman wailing just as loud.
“If I hear anything more than a drop of a pin from that house while I try get my beauty sleep and the police will send you back where you came from Mrs Gibson” Ramona commanded.
As soon as the knocking started, he clenched his hand around my withered mouth so that not even a bubble of air could pass through. I could hear Romana slipping away so I tried screaming as blaring as I could, it all being muffled by the impenetrable grips of his firm hands not even my vulnerable tears could limp the grip of his unholy hands. The gnashing of my teeth against his hands started to bleed my gums forcing me to taste the iron, sickening blood that spread round my throat. Still through the pain I struggled as much as I could slowly slipping my head out of his clutches my last breathes were drawing just as Gabe’s did.
Bella Gibson
Everything was in a blur I could not trace the last thought which entered my mind, the back of my head felt strained and overwhelmed with a forceful pain. My sister was asleep as usual, but I do not understand why we were in the bedroom corner right under that vexing clock, the time stating 8 o clock as I put the muddled image together. Everything in the room seeped into one colour including a ruby pattern on the floor and nausea plagued me. In front of my I saw some sort of shady figure kneeled on the floor with an even larger shape around it. I continued watching as the blurs started to make more sense and my mind was returning. The tremendous figure shoved off the feeble one as it then dragged what looked like to be a cricket bat across the mutilated floor, funny it looked a lot like dads old one. The colossal, blurry figure swung up the bat repeatedly smashing whatever the thing was kneeled below it dyeing the walls a wine-red colour. That insistent ticking still went on. ‘Tick, tock, tick, tock’ echoing the house with the maddening ticking of the Kensington clock.