By the End of the Night

A cold wind rushed through the attic window. Rosemary was pushed to the floor, she had been in this attic for seven days now, she had counted. She wanted to go home, but at the same time, she didn’t. She was only eight years old. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to anyone, let alone an eight-year-old. Yet, she had decided to push through. At that very moment, (One o’clock according to the watch she had found lying on the ground of the attic) she decided to find a way out.

Reader, at this point in the story, you are most likely fairly confused. So, why don’t I give you some clarity? Roughly one week ago, young Rosemary Clarke was minding her business, exploring her town, as she usually did. Unlike most days, she found something interesting. A golden pocket watch, resting peacefully in the grass. Of course, pocket watches aren’t all that exciting, but, for some odd reason, Rosemary felt drawn to this pocket watch. So, she picked it up and opened it. She turned around the hands a bit, and, all of a sudden, she ended up in this weird and confusing attic. Then, we get back to where we were before this off-track explanation.

She stared at the watch on the ground. She thought that, since a clock got her here in the first place, perhaps it could help her get back out. So, she picked it up and started turning the hands. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. She tossed it back onto the ground. So, in this eight-year old’s mind, this was her best option. Seemingly, her only option. She picked the watch back up this time. She looked at it and observed that it read: 

Twist your hands in a gleeful dance as you jump up in the air.

What on earth was that supposed to mean? She jumped up and spun her hands. She danced throughout the attic room for five minutes before accepting that this was not going to work. Then, she got a crazier idea, something that Clara Jones most certainly would have yelled at her for. She approached the window, and sitting on the ledge she began to twist the hands of the watch; she continued to do this as she swiftly threw herself off the ledge. She could see nothing beneath her as she fell. Yet, in all her current questioning of ‘What will happen next?’ she continued to turn the hands of the clock. She turned and looked up to see the floating attic room disappear behind the fluffy white clouds. For a moment, it seemed as if everything would be just fine. This would be okay. This was alright. All was good in the world. Yet, she then remembered that it wasn’t. For all she knew, she could be minutes away from death. Seconds even. Or, she could be going even farther from the one person who loved her the most, her sister Peony. Sadly, the latter was what happened. 

Rosemary awoke. She was in a bed, lying on a mattress that felt how she imagined it would feel to lay on clouds. A soft, pale pink comforter rested on top of her, keeping her warm. She got out of bed, remembering what her mother said she would eat that day, waffles, with whipped cream and strawberries, her favorite. She pushed aside the curtains and opened the windows to let in the sun. She was ten years old now. She had completely forgotten about her sister, Josie, Clara, and her real mother. Yet, this woman, Rosemary’s mother in this world, looked much more like Rosemary than her real mother did. The moment Rosemary had landed in this world when she was eight, she had awoken to be confused for only a second. Then, she went on with her day. 

As Rosemary got older, she learned more about the world that she lived in. She was to get a good husband someday. He would have been raised in a household like hers: rich, snobby, hypocritical, and most importantly, would not stand for anyone different from himself. She had never met someone who wasn’t the same race as her, even though Josie’s mother was born in Guatemala. At age fifteen, she met Martin Litely. His family was wealthy, he would end up being a successful politician, the governor of their state. Rosemary would end up marrying Martin Litely.

In 1991, Martin became the governor; although he ruled much more like an arbitrary king. He was given a large mansion to live in, the same mansion he had lived in from when he was born to when he turned thirteen. Martin Litley didn’t end his term until 2020.

In 1997, Martin and Rosemary had their first child, who they named Cecilia. Then, in 2002, they had triplets who they named Camille, Christopher, and Cora. Both Cecilia and Camille were the perfect poster children. They were obedient to those who were the same but got their way with those different than them. Those such as Christopher and Cora.

Dear reader, it must be noted that the Litely’s were very high up in society. If rumors went around about them, it could end everything.

There had been rumors that Christopher was bisexual. Yet, the Litelys’ did all that they possibly could to keep this under wraps. They believed that, maybe, since they thought that their son, was in fact, bi; they could just shove the part of him that liked the same-sex away. Maybe, just maybe, they could more prominently display his affection towards girls. But what the Litelys’ didn’t know was that their son wasn’t bisexual, he was gay. Christopher had tried so hard to not make them realize, put in some sort of lie. He wanted to rule the world, change the belief that being different automatically means evil. Of course, Christopher was evil, but not for being different. He blackmailed everyone in the family. He blackmailed Cecilia for her affair with someone of a much lower class, Camille for her affair with their father, and Cora for her sexuality. Well, he wanted to blackmail Cora for her sexuality, but she got away too quickly.

Now on the subject of Cora Litely: she wasn’t graceful, she wasn’t obedient, she wouldn’t respect her parents, or more importantly, her father. She wanted nothing to do with men in fact. She seemed completely fine just on her own. Yet, she wasn’t fine on her own, she had no one to relate to, and she wanted to escape, and one day, she finally found the chance. She was strolling through the town, exploring, since she was quite tired of sitting inside all day, while her mother tried to find some nice young man for her. She tripped on the lawn in front of the library, it was a pocket watch. She opened it, the hands weren’t moving. So, she went inside and put the hands to the right time using the clock hanging on the wall. She then shoved it into her overall pocket and raced back to her house, remembering the time. Once she arrived home she changed into her dress. Her father always got mad at her for wearing those overalls. She loved them though, they made people realize her less. People didn’t want to be caught looking at a wealthy girl like Cora Litely wearing something, so… disgusting. 

Everyone just wanted to ignore that she would probably become the head of the Litely’s one day. Cecilia had a toxic relationship with her husband, she wasn’t a poster child anymore. When Cecilia gave birth to her first child, her husband killed him. He didn’t want a child who looked like that. Camille had become secretive, no one knew what she was up to anymore. She had become too bossy. Christopher could only gain power over his family, not millions of people. Cora was kind, she was more powerful than anyone in her family would have liked to acknowledge. She could help people, make the world better. She could overthrow her family if she really wanted to. But, she was too curious to have time for that.  

It was the evening. The Litely’s were having a dinner party. Cecilia was arguing with her husband in the courtyard. Camille was drinking alcohol in her bedroom. Christopher was looking in the garden for a poisonous plant. Cora was eavesdropping in a hidden passageway she had discovered in her house; eavesdropping on the wealthy, powerful, and unmarried Rose-Anne Marshall. She began to overhear a conversation about other dimensions, and how you could use clocks to get to them. She heard something about how to turn them to get somewhere better, somewhere where she belonged, where she thought Christopher belonged. She raced up to Christopher’s room, he wasn’t there, so she wrote a note. Cora had searched everyone on her family’s land before she wrote that note for Christopher. He had been hiding in a secret passageway that Cora hadn’t discovered. Thank goodness, because one of the few things Cora hadn’t figured out about the world is that sometimes the people who you think are good really aren’t.

By the end of the night, Cecilia was passed out, nearly dead, thanks to Christopher.

By the end of the night, Camille had a black-eye for telling her father to stop.

By the end of the night, Christopher had killed his aunt with water hemlock.

By the end of the night, Cora was turning the hands of a clocktower, ready to finally escape. 

By the end of the night, Cora finally began to learn that the world was a lot crueler than she thought possible. 

By the end of the week, Cora finally learned that there are good people out there, it’s just oftentimes difficult to find them.