4:47

4:47

Every afternoon, the clock stops at 4:47. Leaving is optional. Staying isn’t.

  • 4:47
  • ShortStory
  • Hororr

I turned my cup in small circles on the kitchen table. The tea had gone cold, but I didn’t remember making it.

So when did Mom say she’d be back?

An hour ago.

Maybe she stopped somewhere.Where?

It’s just the grocery store.

The pharmacy?

She didn’t take her wallet. I found it in her room.

You went through her room?

Her door was open. Her bed was made.

When does Mom ever make her bed?

I looked at the clock above the stove. It said 4:47. I looked away, then back again.

Still 4:47.

Do you hear that?

Hear what?

Exactly.

I listened. The refrigerator wasn’t humming. The clock wasn’t ticking. There was no sound from outside.

When did it get so quiet?

I don’t know. I just noticed.

She went to the window and stopped.

David. Come look.

The street looked normal. The Hendersons’ car. Mrs. Chen’s garden. Everything where it should be.

Nothing moved.

Where is everyone?

It’s Tuesday. People are at work.

The Henderson kids should be outside.

I tried the window. It wouldn’t open. It’s not locked.

None of them open. I tried earlier.

Why didn’t you say something?

I did.

You said I wasn’t trying hard enough.

I didn’t remember that.

Neither do I. But it happened.

We both heard it then. Footsteps upstairs. Slow. Even. Walking the length of the hallway.

Mom?

The footsteps stopped. Then started again. Same pace. Same path.

That’s not Mom.

How do you know?

Her footsteps sound different.

LISA And David… when did we get home?

After school.

What did we do at school today?

I tried to remember. Nothing came.

We came home. Mom wasn’t here. We sat down.

How long have we been sitting here?

I looked at my cup. I didn’t drink tea.

The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs.

We should check.

We already did.

When?

I don’t know.

(upstairs) Kids? Are you home?

Don’t answer.

It sounds like her.

I know.

The footsteps started down the stairs. Careful. Precise.

I went to the front door. The handle turned easily. The door didn’t move.

Look at it.

The wood grain was shifting. Slow. Like water.

There you are. You’ve been so quiet.

Where were you?

The grocery store.

You didn’t take your wallet.

Didn’t I?

She stood in the doorway. She looked right. But her smile didn’t move.

What day is it?

Tuesday.

Who’s my teacher?

You tell me so many things.

We want to leave.

You just got home.

You’re always hungry at 4:47.

The clock said 4:47.

How long have we been here?

Long enough.

She slid my cup closer. It was full again.

Dad’s dead.

Is he?

Look at the table.

Three cups. Three place settings. One chair pulled out.

When did we last see him?

I don’t remember.

But he was here.

The clock hummed.

Sit. It’s almost dinner.

My legs moved. I sat. Lisa sat.

The door was three feet away. I knew it wouldn’t open. I knew because I’d tried before.

Drink your tea. It’s getting cold.

It had always been cold.

Outside, nothing moved.

Inside, we waited.

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