Keeping Time

The thin arms of my neighbor, Ms. Skelly, were wrapped tightly around my shoulders when the powerful, black, smooth car drove up to the front door to accompany the rest of the cars. The new Timekeepers stepped out of the car to join the rest inside the estate.

The time wasn't important as I came through the door. Drunk and high on unknown drugs, I didn't even notice the shape our living spaces were in. Furniture was turned up-side-down and glass was all over the carpet.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sober now.

Every door was open, and I stepped over a fallen, broken, ripped painting. The estate was so quiet, I could hear my own heartbeat: quick and out of control. As I looked around, I began to notice that things weren't in order. I righted a vase and my knuckles brushed wet blood.

The red was vibrant against the pale of my hand. I didn't bother rubbing it off. The investigators had said something about testing it. I wasn't sure if they had swabbed my hand or not yet.

I looked down at my hand and stared stupidly at the red. I looked up and there was a trail of blood on the wall leading from the dining hall. I followed shakily, my fear replacing my high. At the end of the trail, my father laid in the hallway in a pool of his own blood.

“He's been dead awhile,” one of the investigators told a Timekeeper and they quickly looked over at me. The Timekeeper's skin was dark and his eyes were the color of coal long-dead.

I screamed and for some reason, shook him as if he were simply asleep. Blood seeped into the white dress I had decided to wear for the party. His skin was cold and the couple hundred of years that had been on his arm had been reduced to flat zeros.

I gazed down at my arm, the hundreds of years on my arm now looking deadly. If I had been home, I would have shared the same fate.

I watched the investigators and Timekeepers come out of my home with the remaining valuables. Ms. Skelly reassured me that they were going to try and find evidence on the pieces of my home. It was all loaded up with my father's body and were taken away.

“Ms. Cyprus?” A cold, yet curious, voice sounded off in front of me. I blinked and stared at the Timekeeper in front of me. His eyes were an icy blue, his hair the darkest black.

“Loveena,” I said stiffly, and glanced down at the hand he offered me.

“Miss, my name is-”

“You're a Timekeeper, that's all I need to know,” I snapped rudely and Ms. Skelly choked on her own saliva.

The Timekeeper smiled stiffly, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“You have to come with me for a while. You can either go calmly, or I'll force you,” he said, the tone of his voice meant that he was authority.

I despised authority.

“Or I can say-” I smiled sarcastically as I paused, “for you to go fuck yourself.”

He clenched his jaw, and tried to convince everyone around him that I wasn't getting to him. He stared me down as his coworkers waited for his reaction.

“You can say that later,” he said and gripped my upper arm with an iron grip. I tried to pull out of the grasp as he dragged me towards his car. I reached around, laid my hand against the back of his neck and swept my foot under his. He didn't fall, like I wanted him to. He just stumbled, causing me more discomfort. He regained his footing immediately and shoved me inside the car.

The door locked from the outside and I stared at my driveway through his tinted window.

The Timekeeper got into the car and smoothly drove from my home.



I didn't speak until we drove through several different time zones.

“Where am I going?”

“The Ghetto,” he answered and my jaw dropped.

“We can't go there! I'm as good as dead there!” I rose my voice at him and he slammed on the brakes. I flew forward, striking my forehead on the dashboard.

“I am not one of your friends you can scream and holler at, do you understand me? I am trying to protect you,” he said through clenched teeth. I felt almost accomplished, that I had pushed him to the point of anger.

“Protect me?! You're taking me to my own death if you take me to the Ghetto! Look at this,” I shoved my forearm in his face. “This wont pass in the Ghetto!”

He grabbed my arm, grabbed a glittering device and pressed it to my wrist. I watched in horror as my time was reduced to a day and a half.

“Then we can just hold on to your riches until it's safe to leave,” he said and slid the device into his jacket pocket. He began to drive again, leaving me speechless.

“How dare you?!” My voice had risen again. He put the car in Auto, so it drove itself, and turned to me with a passive expression on his face.

“I am only protecting you so that the same that happened to your father does not happen to you. How the killer was able to come into New Greenwich is being investigated. How did the killer get away with shooting your father and then raiding the place?”

The question was a stab to the chest and I clenched my jaw to keep from bursting into tears. I realized a scary thing then: I hadn't cried about my father's death.

“We lived miles from other people,” I answered simply, and he decided that was enough. He had probably planned to hurt me like this so that I would quiet down.

When we entered the Ghetto, I watched the Timekeeper navigate his way through the back alleys like-

“I used to live here,” he mentioned as he pulled into a driveway. The apartment building we came up to looked old and as if it would collapse at any minute.

“Home sweet home,” I mumbled, after deciding not to make a remark about him living in the Ghetto before.

We walked inside and it was quiet. The air smelt like mold, urine, and blood. We stepped into an apartment and he locked the door behind us.

“Raymond Leon,” he introduced himself but I still didn't take the hand he offered me.

“You know my name,” I stated and walked past him. I found the bathroom with no problems, and started a hot bath. I heard Ray talking to someone on the phone, complaining about something.

Probably you, you ungrateful bitch, a voice murmured at the back of my mind.

As I sank into the steaming water, I wondered how long Ray had been alive. How long he had worked as a Timekeeper. Questions began to bubble up in my head.

How long was my father dead? Why was he killed? Who killed him? Are they coming after me? Do they know I'm here yet?

I slid farther into the water, so that my head was beneath the surface. My body shook as sobs tried to break from my chest, into my mouth and then into the air with their horrible sounds.

I held myself under for as long as I could, forcing back the sobs. The oxygen in my lungs burned and I released the gas slowly, exhaling bubbles. Once I could exhale no more, I forced myself to stay under even longer.

I sat up in the tub when I could no longer handle the water and I coughed.

“Loveena, are you okay?” Raymond's voice was just on the other side of the door. I hoped he didn't try to come in here. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and crossed my legs just in case.

“I'm fine,” I wheezed, just as my tears broke free. I could barely feel then, they were hot against my already-hot cheeks.