"No matter how many times I
give up, there is always a piece of me that says 'Don't! Don't
give up! Keep moving forward!' and I charge at the problem
Tears trickled down my cheek as I
pounded against the ivory door. This building was my last hope. It
was my last hope to escape the timeless void of a perfect world.
Every night, I make my attempt at opening the door and every time I
With a feeble last effort, I hooked my hand into the
rustic brass handle and pushed. It stayed locked. Hope drained out of
me as I stared at the door. It seems impossible that I could claim my
freedom and the freedom of the people I love.
the times when my friends and family weren't mechanically living
their lives in symphony of an ideal world... of a Utopia. I remember
when I had friends that laughed with me. A family that cared and
supported me. All of that was taken away from me when time decided to
spin in a constant replay. They had turned into robots of
Why I am the only person who remembers, I don't
know but I know that makes it my job to free everyone from this
mindless oblivion. The marble skyscrapers, the emerald meadow and the
sunshine golden sand were all just an illusion to cover the lie that
embedded into everyone's existence in this world.
sigh, I looked up at the starlit sky, wishing that something could
miraculously turn the time back on. When I found the connection
between time and this ivory building, I had to contain my excitement
but ever since then I spent over five months of mind-numbing evenings
trying to get the door to open. I refuse to believe that there's no
path that could press the 'play' button of time because if I do,
if I let that happen, my sanity would crumble into pieces.
I hang, holding the faint glow of hope that this building would be
the key to emancipate my world. No! It isn't a hope. This building
has to be the one to break this curse. It was the only building that
does not seem to be a shiny new coin throughout the realm. The paint
looked a bit faded and the brass handle was rusted. The building ages
meaning time exist in this small corner of the world.
Images of my family and friends smiling and the sounds of their
laughter filled my mind. This was what I was fighting for. A surge of
determination, purpose and willpower flowed through me. I don't
care what it takes but I have to get into the building. I stepped
back and surveyed the building, abandoning all hopes of opening the
door. I need to find another way in. It was the only way.
The building was tall and wide with faded white patches dotted around
the walls. The roof was adorned with elaborate stone gargoyles and
columns sprouted beneath them supporting the canopy. All the windows,
neatly lined that clearly showed the building has 3 stories, had
curtains drawn to seal the secrets that lay inside.
realisation dawned upon me. I could break into the building through a
smashed window. The first thought that crossed my mind was to break
into the building tonight but sense contradicted me that I should
leave it for the next night and retire for now...
I took a deep breath as I stared at the glistening window at eye
level, holding two smooth chunks of rocks. The moon behind me,
reflected into the window. Every day, I was forced to look into my
parents' eyes as they greeted me with the same greetings and say
the same things. And every day, I was forced to feel the same grief
and anguish that they were prisoners of time.
the end of their confinement starts. With all the power I could
muster, I flung one of the grey rocks into the window. The shattering
of the glass made a nice satisfying sound. It echoed through the
silent night but I wasn't worried. Everyone would remain asleep no
matter what. It has been like that since a year ago.
moved closer to examine the damage. With the smaller rock, I started
to remove the sharp edges around the great hole I made in the middle.
I picked up the torch from the cement and lit it. Excitement and
nervousness filled me as I leaned over and touched the red silk
With a sigh, I climbed through the hole gingerly
and flung the curtains aside.
The first thing I saw was
the broken glass pieces of the window scattered across the wooden
floor. I shifted the beam of the torch and swivelled it around the
room. The room was filled with a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs were
strung across the lamps and shelves, tying and linking every object
in the room. It was expected. No one had touched the inside of the
building for at least a year. I cautiously moved across the other
side of the room, picking up the large rock in the process in case of
the need for defence arises.
I pressed the handle and
pushed. The door, unlike the main entrance, opened with a squeak. I
closed my eyes and breathed in. Dust clogged up my nostrils and I
started to cough violently. Well, that wasn't a good idea.
I carefully opened my eyes and examined the second room. The room was
much, much larger than the first. Shelves of dusty old books filled
the area. A broken chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling,
threatening to fall down any second. I shone my torch to the middle
of the room. Shock froze me temporarily as I drunk in the sight.
Burnt books upon burnt books piled up in a pyramid. Covers and pages
littered across the floor all with a similar characteristic, seared
black edges. There was a dark red patch that was smeared in a path
that led to the back of the dark room where my torch light was too
weak to infiltrate.
My conscious told me to turn back and
run for cover but my sheer desperation and fortitude, the need to
release my family and friends from their prison urged me forward. I
crept warily along the mark, fearing to touch it. There was something
creepy and menacing about the atmosphere of this place. It was an
atmosphere that causes human instinct to jump back in fright and run
for cover but I remained resolute on the task ahead. I have to do it.
I need to.
The beam of my fell torch fell on something
white as I neared the end of the room. My heart was gripped with
dread and terror. It was a skeleton, grinning ominously. Fear
penetrated through me like a sharp knife as I examined the skeleton.
One of his hands was clutching something pointed. I moved closer to
pinpoint what the object was.
It was a pen and a piece of
paper lie next to it. I shifted my position in a readable angle.
"Timekeeper: it's now your job to
reintroduce time to this world again."