Clockwork

TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
Sings the old clock in a low husky voice.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
Moans the old tiny engines born in a century now long gone.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
They sing in unison like a children's choir on Christmas eve, but quieter like a muffled song playing in the background of a cafe. Suddenly, the small mechanisms erupt in a cheer of jumbled sounds and noises. The clock is crying - crying like it never did before. I look at the clock's pointers. 01 am. The magical hour.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
I'm finally awake. My open eyes scan the room once carefully. It seems spotless. No traces of the gigantic pool of blood in the center of the living room or the splats of red tainting the couch and tapestries. No screams, no scratch marks. It's a virginal like snow room. Unblemished. Untouched by time.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
Luckily, the white walls won't talk and even if they could, it would take me less than a second to hush their whispers. My hands move to my left pant pocket. The phone is vibrating. I answer and the voice on the other side replies happily. The conversation is short, only interrupted by the slow tic-tac of the clock.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
I end the call and store away my cellphone. The silence surrounds me. Another family is coming. I must greet them warmly. It is my job after all. I grab the knife I had just finished cleaning.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
"Guess I cleaned up for nothing."
A small laugh escapes my lips. My joy is too immense to contain. I look at the clock and smile.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
"Only ten hours to go."
The clock keeps ticking. The room remains dark and gloomy.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
I sigh heavily. Quick. Let time run faster. This boredom is too much. The silence too oppressive and yet there's still hope for me.
TIC-TAC TIC-TAC
When the pointers show 11 am, the dark emptiness will fade away as usual, like an old lonely clock reaching its last tick.