5
Death Clock by Danielle Beckstead
Windows filled with light Birds singing in harmony Eyelids open and close Time to wake up
Creaking floor boards Cold feet shuffling Getting ready for the day Alone with my thoughts I feel his presence
A cloaked figure Long spider-like fingers A clock ticking Infiltrating my brain Holding his hand out Waiting for mine to meet his Is it my time ?
The door opens “ Ready for school ?” “ Yes , Mom .”
I turn back : He ’ s gone .