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Tick. Tick. Tick.
Time is a dreadful thing to chase. Everything revolves around the simple concept that with every tick tock, precious moments slip away, retreating to the infinite black void of the past. Memories are potent, but untouchable. My time is almost up, or so they tell me.
The walls pulse around me in steady rhythm with the clock, a constant pressure on the interior of my mind. I shiver despite myself, pulling the flimsy covering I had been afforded tighter around my shoulders. This place was built to harbor chill, a subtle punishment to those who reside within its frigid walls. The rickety steel frame of my bed quivers and squeals beneath me as I swing my legs to the floor. It is an effort to stand. My quarters don’t afford much room to stretch my restless muscles. The single fluorescent bulb dangling from the ceiling pins my grotesquely stretched silhouette to the ground. Like a childhood monster, my shadow slinks along the floor mimicking my awkward movements. A hideous puppet show.
The bright artificial light falters for a breath of a moment, its flickering struggle signaling a rapidly coming cut of power. The flood of piercing light gives way to the welcoming embrace of encompassing darkness. How suiting. Trapped I remain in the dark. I feel my way back to the bed, not too difficult as with my scantily furnished space. I move to climb atop my flimsy mattress, as an abrupt chill brushes its icy fingers up my spine. In a burst of paranoia befitted to my current state, I spin around seeking my unseen demon. Seeing naught but the inky blackness of night, I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding.
“You’re losing your mind man.”
I chuckle to myself, more to soothe my frazzled nerves then anything else. Once again I turn toward my bed, eager for the sweet release of sleep.
“Daddy…”
The tiny nymph-like voice reverberated throughout my entire body. Every muscle, every nerve ending, every cell cried out to the musical beckoning.
“Savannah?”
My voice sounded so far away to my pounding ears. Weak and quivering, a mere thread of sound in an empty void.
“Daddy…”
My rubbery legs give way beneath me and with a soft curse I collapsed to the bone-chilling concrete floor.
“Baby, where are you?”
Trembling violently, my voice rises higher and higher, hysteria threatening my deteriorating mind. My eyes, still ill-adjusted to the blackness, search and dart frantically around me. Buried deep beneath the heavy shroud of fear and pumping adrenaline surfaces a cold hard truth. Savannah’s not here and she’s never going to be.
“Get a grip!”
I cry at myself, distressed at my sudden loss of control. Sleep, yes I need to sleep off these foul delusions. Beyond the quick flash of rational thought, I curl up on the frigid ground, drifting off into what I hope will be a deep and dreamless sleep.
* * *
Wisps of lavender wind and swirl around me. Teasing my senses. Lavender and… vanilla? The complimentary scents always seemed to cling to Colette’s skin. I can smell her now. A whimsical memory etched in my brain. But so strong. Blinking rapidly, I try to break free from the thick haze of sleep. All around me, the scenery has changed. Gone are the harsh concrete walls and arctic breezes. I now find myself stretched out on an overstuffed leather sofa.
“Mommy? Tell me a story?”
Savannah? She’s here… with Colette? In a sort of sluggish stupor, I fight wildly to rise. I can still feel my way around, my vision heavily obscured. As if blind a carefully maneuver between countless furnishings and a plethora of toddler’s toys. I can hear the sweet pitch of Colette’s voice filtering down the hallway. I’m almost there. Just a few more heavy steps and I brush the sturdy door frame with my palm. My vision returns with frightening clarity with the sanctuary of Savannah’s bedroom.
My breath catches and I can only stare. It’s as if I never left them. My precious wife and daughter. They seem encapsulated within a halo of life. Savannah’s large round eyes begin to droop as the night time ritual progresses, eventually leaving the cherubic toddler safe in sleep’s soft embrace. I watch in complete wonder as Colette stands and feathers a whisper light kiss to Savannah’s smooth brow.
I feel another chill as sudden as before, a devious assault on the delicate line of my spine. Shivering slightly, I watch Colette suddenly snaps to attention. She makes a determined path towards me and a slow smile softens my face at her approach.
“I’ve missed you.”
My voice sounds strange and foreign. Unnatural in such a peaceful place. She’s close enough to touch. I long for the velvet smoothness of her ivory skin. She brushes by me without a break in stride. Not even a wayward glance. I feel the rejection like 1000 needles to my heart. Confused and hurt I follow her steady path to the bedroom. It’s if I’ve been physically struck. She opens the closet door to pull out a suitcase. She’s packing.
“Colette!”
I cry her name in dismay. She doesn’t even look at me. Icy fingers clutch at my heart. I try again, my voice rips through the air like a flaming arrow and yet she still remains undisturbed. Two strides and I’m close behind her, my building rage softened only by the heady mixture of lavender and vanilla. I reach out to catch her by the wrist.
Time ceases for an instant. My breath slams out of my lungs in alarm. My hand passes straight through hers! I reel backward, mind spinning with the impossibility of it all.
Vaguely, I hear the sound of keys scratching at the front door. Colette’s head snaps up in panic and she scurries to plant her now packed suitcase beneath the bed. Darting for the door, she impossibly passes through my rigid form. I turn numbly, shuffling behind her down the hallway. She skids to a halt just in front of the door as it swings open. Immediately the foul odor of stale alcohol penetrates this hazy world of lavender and vanilla. Colette stumbles back as a tall burly form staggers through the door.
“You’re home early.”
She’d been expecting him to be here? Information I can’t process now. I watch as she tentatively moves forward to steady this rocking stranger, but he swats rudely at her hands. I can’t even catch a clear view of this new arrival, his face remains averted from my curious gaze. Colette’s mouth moves again to speak, but the sound fades away. A dull roaring pours into my ears, cruelly replacing her sweet melodic voice.
The drunken figure advances toward her now, awkwardly herding her down the hallway. Colette casts a worried glance toward Savannah’s slightly ajar bedroom door before being unceremoniously pushed into the bedroom. Anger begins to swell in my chest and I storm in after them both. He herds her further into the room towards the bed and I witness her soft protests, hands held up in a weak barrier. His rough hands grip her tightly by the shoulders moving to skim the collar of her button down blouse. In one practiced motion, he shoves her down fiercely, catching the delicate fabric with meaty fingers. I fly at this offensive imbecile in an instant rage. My palms itch to wrap around his neck.
My efforts are futile. I fall to the floor in a clumsy tangle. Impossibility turns to normalcy. I’m a shadow in this tortuous performance. I’m a captive audience, but I can’t join the play.
I watch helplessly as my wife begins a violent struggle with this stranger. Her cries peel through the blanketing buzz, wrenching my heart. His burly frame looms over her threateningly and he moves to crawl over her, but I stare in horror as his foot knocks against something under the bed. Colette freezes instantly, going white as the very sheets she lays sprawled atop. An angry bellow erupts from him as he jerks the suitcase from its hasty hiding spot. Colette cries out in alarm as his meaty paw swings out to strike her. Her fearful pleas for mercy tear into me, almost robbing me the ability to think. I drive myself into action again, desperately trying to rescue my wife, but to no avail. I pass through everything I try to touch. I let out a frustrated yell, raising my hands to my head. Colette’s screams become muted and I realize her attacker has his fingers laced around her throat. Her limbs flail wildly as she fights for air, but her slight strength is no match for drunken rage. I close my eyes hard, unable to bear the sight. The breath thunders from my lungs when I hear the final choking gasps pass her lips. I open my eyes, vision obscured with cloudy tears, and flinch. Her eyes roll back and her body sags on the bed.
“NOOOOO!!!”
My scream tears through the room and the man turns suddenly. Stunned by the sudden flash of acknowledgement I shrink back against the door frame. His face is still obscured, but I now notice his head is not tilted towards me. Numbly, I follow his path of vision and an iron fist closes around my heart when I see Savannah standing in the doorway.
“Where’s Mommy?”
“No, baby run. Please. Not my baby.” I whisper, defeated.
He takes a slow step forward and the putrid stench of alcohol and death make Savannah recoil. I know he’s talking to her, but I can’t make out the words. Another step and the angry flame in me ignites. I leap to my feet and will for something to allow me to protect my baby girl. Savannah takes a tiny step backward, looking very much like a frightened bird. I ache to pull her into my arms, shield her from this monster, but I can’t touch her.
She spins suddenly, nightgown trailing behind her as she scurries down the hallway. I turn in time to see the man bursting forward and I reflexively brace myself for the impact, but it never comes. I whirl around as he passes through me and my blood freezes at the sight. He holds Savannah in his arms, sobbing and screaming, one hand smothering her face. Crying, pleading, begging I try again and again to save her. It doesn’t last long. Her tiny body is soon limp and lifeless. He lays her body down on the ground, a porcelain doll.
I snap. Launching myself once more, hands poised to choke away his life as he’s done to my wife and daughter. Startled I feel flesh beneath my fingers and I squeeze down hard. I still see no face, but rage has blinded me. A pressure burns against my own throat, but I feel too close to retribution to let it go now. I shake him wildly, both of us tumbling to the floor, but I still can’t grasp an identity. My breath catches. With a sickening crack I realize.
The dead face flashing into vision belongs to me.
* * *
The coroner sighed rubbing his hands briskly in the cold.
“He died sometime over the night.”
“Cause?” The guard leaned casually against the bars of the cell.
“Looks like he choked or something. See those bruises on his neck?” He gestured to the offensive discoloring stretched along the body’s neck.
The guard shrugged, uncaring. “He was on death row anyway,” he turns to walk back down the aisle motioning for the coroner to follow. “Something about killing his wife and kid…”
The lights flickered in the few raining cells, bathing the block in forgiving darkness. The clock sings its merry tune in the echoing silence.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
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