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Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey

"Melting Clocks" by Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey

SciFi/Fantasy text 1 out of 10 by Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey.      ←Previous - Next→
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Daimon discovers his has the ability to time travel, but it has a price to be paid. He becomes lost in time...and he's not alone. ~ i wanted to try something new like time travel although it is over done. This is just what i think it would be like... This story was inspired by that paint of melting clocks...enjoy and tell me what you think =) ~
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←- If We Had Faces | Maybe I Don't Want To Be An Elf (Part I,II,&III) -→

            Daimon's fingernails dug into his thighs as he sat in the front of the classroom. The pain was unbearable but he kept focusing on it, to take his attention off of his grumbling stomach. He could sense the other students’ eyes looking at him, he could feel them like fingers nit picking at his back. He was a sheep amongst the angry wolves, being torn apart...piece my piece...label by label. Although the room was silent, he could hear them laughing at him and snickering. He slumped down in his chair causing his stomach rolls to overlap each other. He tugged at his shirt, pulling it straight down, believing it would hide his imperfections. His hands rested once again on his thighs, digging into the skin, layer by thin layer. Time crawled by sluggishly for Daimon and every second seemed to pass by in slow motion. His breath shivered as the last second approached.

            The bell rang and with a sigh of relief he rose from his chair and packed up his books. He never thought of a moment filled with more happiness than with the arrival of the lunch bell. He had feared that his stomach would grumble loudly before the class would end but now he was free, free from ridicule. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side.

            "He's no Pillsbury doughboy. He doesn't say woo-hoo!"

            The dumb human being laughed and poked Daimon with a ruler once again. Daimon lowered his head and pushed in his chair. His fingers gripped the seat tightly and the sweat was oozing from his body. His skin stuck to the chair. He gripped it harder as they laughed until he had greased the chair and his hand slid off the top into a fist. Today might be the day, he thought. As he raised his arm, the teacher lifted his head, giving that foreboding stare to get out of his classroom. Daimon complied and the other boy laughed with his friends as they left, tapping the ruler on everything they passed. Daimon waited a view moments and then walked out of the class.

            The hall was empty by then, everyone was probably packed into the cafe, laughing and socializing with their friends. Daimon walked through the courtyard and found a shady bench to sit and eat. He didn't like it when people saw him eat. He sat down and the wooden bench squeaked, a few girls giggled mindlessly and then continued their annoying chatter. Daimon's face cooled in the shade, summer was approaching and he felt like his skin was rippling down the sides of his back and melting off. He craved the day to end as his stubby fingers smoothed the surface of his watch from left to right. His watch reflected a brilliant light and he closed his eyes real quick and turned his face the other way. He kept his eyes closed for a second and he could still see the blue and yellow swirling blur painting his eyes lids and then smearing away. As the imprint faded, he began to feel different, the temperature seemed cooler and his seat felt smoother, not rough like the wooden benches he usually sat on. As he opened his eyes, he was staring at the blackboard in the classroom…again.

            He jerked his head back and gave a ghastly breath. His chair tipped slightly and then rammed back down. His stomach hit the desk and the corner sunk in just below his ribs. He almost lost his breath but the air started to circulate again. He held his hand against his chest, to see if he was still alive, if his heart was still beating. A murmur came from the ruler kid, who sat just behind him. He said something about a heart attack and then slicked his hair back. Daimon looked at the clock, there were only seconds till the lunch bell. He didn't understand. Either he was having major ‘daja vu’ or he had traveled back in time. But how... ? He looked at his watch and saw the greased smudge he had made across the glassy surface. It was his grandfather’s watch that was given to him when his grandfather had gone to the hospital.  Somehow, it brought him back to that moment in time. But why?

The bell rang a second time for Daimon and he shook his head, trying to shake off his suspicions of the ability to time travel. He packed up his books and began to leave when he felt a sharp pain in his side. It was the ruler. Daimon found himself in the same stance as before, leaning towards the door, sweating like a pig. His hand was gripping the chair fiercely and the pain in his side pulsated. Before the kid could make his comment, Daimon smudged his watch, from right to left, just as before.

            The bright light of time flashed before him once again and he was sitting slumped down in his chair, facing the board. He looked down at his watch, it was still smudged. The seconds ticked by slowly and he gently smudged the clock from left to right, only a few spaces and time sped up instantly. It looked as if everyone was twitching abnormally. He dragged his finger slowly and everything moved at a crawl. As he picked his finger off the watch, time went back to normal and there were only a few seconds left in the class. The bell rang and Daimon rose, like before. He counted off the seconds and instinctively grabbed the ruler from behind, without turning around. He twisted his head and looked at the ruler kid. Daimon gave him a triumphant smirk and then broke the ruler in half. The wooden shards splintered to the floor and he dropped the two pieces on the desk. The teacher hardly raised his head. Daimon swung his book bag on to his shoulder and entered the hallway.

He walked different for the first time. It was a walk in the middle of a throng of people without tugging at his clothing or moving his hair in front of his face. But people started to stare at him and he returned to his uncomfortable state. Laughing bombarded him. He heard a crinkle on his back and he ducked into the boys’ bathroom. Their was a sign written on his back "Poke me, I'm the Dough Boy." That is why he was poked, that is why the girls laughed. He leaned against the wall and slid down it until he hit the floor. He hated them all and then it occurred to him... He didn't have to take it anymore.

            With one reversal of time he was back in the hall, and quickly pulled the sign off his back and then put his finger upon the top of his watch. He tapped the surface once and everyone around him froze. He squealed happily. He marched in the middle of the hall and pushed over a few people. They fell like statues to the ground. He punched the ruler kid in the face, and then kicked him in the stomach once he hit the ground. So many things were racing through his mind and he couldn't even fathom how many people he wanted to get back at. He raised his head for a moment, to catch his breath, and at the end of the hall he saw someone walk between the frozen statues. The figure was dark and it was breathing coarsely, and it sounded as if it was whispering to him. It's whispers crackled and pitched darkly and the whole hall seemed to share it's darkness. Daimon backed up behind one of the statues and watched in horror as the oily dark figure approached. Then, the figure disappeared behind one of the students. Daimon's eyes shifted frantically, trying to find the figure. Suddenly it's stealthy voices whispered in his ear.

            "Excuse me, got the time?"

            Daimon froze and turned. All he saw was it's blood red eyes only inches from his face. Daimon fell back and smudged the surface of his clock completely around from right to left. A brilliant flash occurred and it made the creature hiss and stumble back. The next instant Daimon was in his bed, panting anxiously. His covers were soaked with sweat. He took a deep breath and then sighed.

            "It was just a dream..."

            Daimon leaned back on his pillow and began to doze off again, wrapped in the blankets of darkness. He opened his eyes for a second to shift his position and when he blinked...the two red eyes were peering into his soul, only a scream away. He could feel it's decaying breath wrapping around his face.

            "Lost in time, are we? Let me help you find your way."

            The creature grinned and he could see it's sharp white teeth, illumining in the darkness. Daimon smudged the watch from left to right completely and then some more. The light flashed again and the creature screamed in defeat as it lunged toward him. Daimon's head twitched upwards and he was on the bench outside again, sitting in the shade. The girls were still giggling. He looked down at the watch in horror, seeing something he had never noticed before. In the middle of the dial, there were two bright red jewels aligned perfectly to the twelve and six. He got up and ran towards the hall entrance. As he reached for the doorknob, his hand passed right through it. He kept trying to grab it and he cried as his hand kept passing through the metal. He turned to run back, thinking he was going crazy until he saw himself, sitting on the wooden bench eating a sandwich. He reached to his wrist to smudge the watch, but it was gone. He couldn't believe it. He was lost in time.

            He ran towards his body sitting under the tree and began swinging at his, but his fists just swung at air. He screamed but no one could hear him. His hands started to shake and he sweated more than he had ever before. He turned to run to the parking lot, but as he did he saw an old man walking towards him. He cried in disbelief.


            The old man nodded in recognition. His face was disfigured, as if the skin was melting off of him. The air around him seemed to sleekly run down his side, smearing him like an oil painting.

            “Stop the tears, I don’t have much time left…” He said in anger, swiping his hand.

            “What is happening? Why aren’t you in the hospital?” Daimon asked, although other questions were racing through his mind.

            “I’ve been here waiting for you! Now shut up and listen,” Grandpa said fiercely, he was nothing like Daimon remembered him to be.

            “But…” Daimon began but then he saw his grandfather’s arm, stretch and grow to the ground. It looked like paint dripping down a canvas. It reminded him of melting clocks.

            “You must help the others,” he muttered, not even paying attention to his melting limbs.

            “Others? Help them with what?” Daimon asked as he cringed.

            “Help them escape,” Grandpa said as he dropped to his knees.

            “What are you talking about? Escape from what?” Daimon questioned, motioning to help him.

            “From being erased…”

            Suddenly Grandpa’s whole body collapsed on the ground. His colors were being smeared into his surrounding, as if the environment was absorbing him. His gray hairs were mixing in with the asphalt and his green tweed suit was drowning in the grass. After a few moments he was gone. All the was left was a small pocket watch, lying absently on the grass, where his grandfather’s hand just was.

            “Erased?” Daimon yelped.

            Soon others began walking towards him and seeping out of crevices. He backed up in horror and bumped into a tree. He turned quickly thinking it was a human. As he swung around, his limbs flapped absently mindedly at his side. He looked up and there were people in the trees, hanging on to the branches. Their limbs were flapping in the wind and they curved around the branches. Their faces were filled with sorrow as their skin reached out to him. They were being erased…expunged from time. They were melting clocks.


                                                            To be continued…

←- If We Had Faces | Maybe I Don't Want To Be An Elf (Part I,II,&III) -→

30 Mar 2004:-) Sergei Barr
Hmm...I love Dali's paintings. You should read Ingrid Hartman's work on elfwood. She wrote about a Dali painting also. As for the wording, it tends to repeat. I liked that the story was short and descriptive. It wasn't retarded, with people saying things that are colloquial, especially when the characters are sophisticated nobles, or when there's a big situation and the character is talking like he just got out of a bar. I love it, though you shouldn't bring down your intellect so the readers can understand. Much better than most people on elfwood. If you have a chance, it would be great if you could help me improve my writing.

13 Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey replies: "Ingrid Hartman...I'll give her a read later on today =)Yeah, I need that good old thesaurus with me all the time or I just fall into that repeating ditch hehe. As for bringing down the words, I more or less wanted to keep it simple. With time travel stories, I mostly have trouble (when reading them) looking past the descriptions and actaully understanding what is happening. I wanted to make it simple and clear what was going on....Oh no problem, I'll drop by you libr. later on in the week and read some of your stuff =) Always glad to help in any way I can. Thanks for dropping by!"
30 Mar 2004:-) Chelsea Castonguay
God, Kat!! Creeeeepy enough, eh? I loved it! It really reminds me of Dean Koontz book, Dragon Tears, I think it's called? Anyway, another amazing work from you!

1 Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey replies: "Hmm...God..Yes I believe you can refer to me as God..hehe just kidding. Creepy enough? Nahhh, it could have gotten creepier hehe. Hmmm never read that book, I'll look for it the next time i take my weekly trip to barnes and noble bookstore."
14 Jul 2004:-) Glo 'the Bug' Bowden
You are a wizard with your words. I must say, I am impressed. Every single story i have read so far has got me thinking. Beautiful work! Absolutely wonderful!

1 Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey replies: "Thank you, I'm glad that my pieces invoke thought."
20 Nov 2004:-) Conrad Quinton Osborne
Whoa, that was awesome. I LOVE to read and I've discovered something about myself. If I start reading and then start seeing the story in my head like a movie instead of just reading the words then it's really good. I saw everything you wrote like a movie. The only suggestion I could think of is to describe the surroundings a little more. Other than that it was fantastic. I cant wait for the sequel. Do you mind if I draw a picture based on this story? If you have any design ideas then do e-mail me and let me know. I don't do color much, but in this case it's vital to the time travel thing. Good job on mod's choice, it was well earned.

:-) Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey replies: "thanks for reading =) Yeah, i wish i did describe stuff more but then again i wanted the story to be fast paced... But a sequel, i don't know if i'll write another one. And you can draw a picture if you want, although it has been like 3 months haha =) thanks again for reading..."
8 Jan 2005:-) Deborah Cullins Smith
Wow... Interesting concept. I read it rather rapidly. (it's getting late, and I'm about to turn into a pumpkin... or maybe a very large eggplant...) So I'll come back and comment again after I've really gone over it more thoroughly. I love the imagination that went into this story. We've all known those poor kids who just didn't fit in with their peers.

Good job.

:-) Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey replies: "thanks"
14 Oct 200545 Joshua rawls
Wow that last scene when everyone is melting, and you discribe the looks on their faces, reminds of a some abstract painting. very well done.
23 Feb 200645 Aurora
Yes, that one surreal painting... Grr i don't know who it's by. But i've seen it everywhere. Anyway this is a great story... I'll come back to read the rest.
18 Mar 2008:-) Victor Lorandi Gonzalez
Wow, nice one. The small details are very catchy. Just the "They were melting clocks" was a little too ... corny. But corny is good, sometimes.
1 Apr 200845 Anon.
Wow this was great! I don’t to read about time travel often. Thanks for a good read1
19 May 200845 Danielle
The clock painting is by Salvador Dali, and it’s called the persistence of memory. I really enjoyed this (beginning of a) story, and I look forward to more! It’s so creepy that just when he finds out that he has this power, all of a sudden he draws the attention of these other creatures.
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'Melting Clocks':
 • Created by: :-) Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey
 • Copyright: ©Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey. All rights reserved!

 • Keywords: Clocks, Fantasy, Fiction, Melting, Science, Stuck, Time, Travel
 • Categories: Dream Imagery, Man, Men
Modpick •  Mod Pick at: 2004-03-29 09:58:49
 • Views: 2409

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More by 'Kathleen ´Kat´ Casey':
Voices in Her Head
Create Me, Theodore
Inside, Through, and Beyond the Window
If We Had Faces
Escape Time

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