Two children play in the long, winding driveway that leads to the sleek lines of the modern house I call home. The sun warms my face as I gaze out of the large glass window. I turn back to my computer, sighing over the piles of paperwork for a business venture I started years ago. A sharp, brisk sound slices the warm air, making me shudder.
The ringing sounds ominous. It’ s another place, another time, with different people. The nurse whose voice sounds more panicked than reassuring gives me the news I dread to hear – that both of my parents are in a critical condition. My mind flashes through images I buried a long time ago. A lump grows in my throat as I remember the contours of my mother’ s face, my father’ s eyes. I recall the moment the monitor stopped beeping. The desolate monotone filled the room as I bowed my head.
The cream wall starts to come into vision.
Tick, tock. Oh, that’ s the clock on the wall.
I gaze at the round clock, watching as the thin red hand jerks and twitches as the seconds go by.
Tick... tock... tick... tock.....
Valerie Liang Winner of the Year 8 Verve Competition
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