Tick, Tock, the hands slide In an empty old house where nobody came Maybe it’s width was too wide Or something else that put it to shame There must be a reason, to itself it lied Nobody would come, not if they were paid Tick, Tock, the hands slide In an empty old house where nobody came Or maybe it was just tied to something that it could claim Or maybe people were just shy After all, that could be the blame Would anyone even care if it cried Tick, Tock, the hands slide In an empty old house where nobody came

Standing at the edge of the doorframe, he felt empty inside. A large gape had opened up in his chest. Leaving everyone you’ve even known was not any easy task. A quick glance over his shoulder, and he would’ve folded. He had to force himself forward. He prayed that he forgot something, that he had to go back. But he couldn’t. He had to leave for his family to stay safe. The men were coming after him, after all. Why would his children have to suffer for his shady deeds? He tried to keep his mind on the task as he couldn’t help but turn his head once more. Memories flooded his thoughts as his legs became jello. The table. The table his son held onto to take his first step. The kitchen. The place his wife and him argued about getting into this scheme in the first place. God, she was right. He hated that she was always right. The picture. Oh, the picture. His two beautiful daughters and his young soon next to him and his wife in the porcelain frame. Would they every forgive him? He wouldn’t if he were them. He drew his eyes back to the garage where his car waited for him with dreading eyes.

Her eyes twisted left and right across the table yet she couldn’t make sense what was in front of her. They were people. However, they were different. Their clothing was more odd. They sat with her at a blue clothed table in a round circle, all celebrating with their for and wine. In the center of the table was a large bowl of fruit. Apples, strawberries, and bannas were all on full display. But, the people paid no mind to the table. They kept their eyes on each other. The woman to her right, who kept eyeing her. She wore a long, white dress that touched the floor. It was sinched together by her big red ribbion that tied into a bow. You could see the slightest drop of blood on it if it were not covered by her drooling black hair.