By the time I've turned thirteen, the air smelled like death came uninvited two days after.

It had been three weeks since I found out about my aunt's disappearance, her whereabouts showing later on the news. She had never replied to my father's calls, she wasn't at home when we tried visiting, hell, we even tried to go back to the hospital just in case but the doctors and nurses that had clocked in those days said that they hadn't seen her since the day my grandmother had passed.

The continuous static from the television rattled and echoed in the living room, my eyes wide and glued to it with my father matched my own gaze. The room immediately darkened when the reported had revealed that a semi-trailer truck had lost its brakes and crashed into three cars in the highway. Behind the man was my aunt's car which had gotten stuck in between the wheels.

The same day when my grandmother's clock had been taken away from my grandparent's house and brought here with the same key that my aunt had with her arriving shortly in the mail on our front porch.

Continuous chatter came from my father as he talked to a few of our relatives about my aunt's sudden death and I could hear him saying that he'd help on getting the funeral ready. She was his sister-in-law after all so despite not being utterly close with her, he respected her. While he was preoccupied, I observed the old clock that stood large at the end of the hallway in our house.

Weirdly enough, it was the same as the clock in the hospital. Twitching.

"Papa, this clock is broken too."

There was a slight pause before I heard my father's footsteps from behind as he finally approached and stood behind me. With his eyes staring at the clock, I pointed at the hands that remained stuck.

"See? It wouldn't move."

"Must be a problem with the pendulum."

My father then tried fixing it, having the key on his hand before opening the glass door of the grandfather clock. He then started lifting and slowly pulling down the weights as I watched silently beside him.

Curious little thing I was before.

My father seemed to pay me no mind though I could tell that he was getting a little distracted by the way I was staring at him. He kept mentioning that I could play around the living room, even managing to give me some toy but I wouldn't budge.

Eventually, he accepted. I had handed him tools while he was preoccupied, only crouching to check the inside of the clock better. The clock still stood tall, a little intimidating to look at the first glance. Maybe cause it was new and did not fit the look in the living room?

Or maybe I'm just not used to having dead people's things.

Maybe I've been too familiar with it on my grandmother's house that it felt uncanny to be in ours.

I can never tell.

I let out a soft hum, seeing my father wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Is it done, papa? Is it fixed?"

He shakes his head in response. "No, Amara. Look, how about you play outside for a while and I'll get this clock fixed before dinner?"

I hesitated at first, torn between wanting to watch and wanting to play. But alas, I complied, taking the toy that my father had given me before running outside. Though, even though he had tried everything, the clock hadn't moved an inch. He quickly gave up and made dinner after that.

And hours went by, it finally turned to midnight.

The clock mysteriously chimed by the time I grabbed a snack from the fridge. The short stool that I had climbed on slightly shook, my feet trembling to keep myself in balance. My father finding out about the clock would be good news for him. But catching me on the act of stealing a midnight snack was another thing.

I slightly tiptoed my way around the hallway, peeking over and glaring at the grandfather clock with a hint of disdain. What a snitch.

"How do you turn this off? Does it turn off like an alarm clock?" I tried checking the back but to no avail. The pendulum swung from left to right, its chime still ringing and realization finally hits.

I backed away.

"Papa said you're not going to work. How are you...?" I mumbled out, partly with hesitation and half with excitement. It's not my first time hearing it chime and echo but seeing it work momentarily made my heart skip a beat. I had almost rushed upstairs to wake up my father but I knew he had work tomorrow so it was best to let him sleep.

I watched in awe, seeing the hands of the clock finally moving clockwise. The pendulum swung from left to right, the moon dial on top still being intact. There were a few times where I realized that it looked like there were a few scratches on the bottom from the cat that my grandmother had at home and the levelers were a little uneven—-making the clock a little wobbly everytime my father tried to move it.

A sigh of relief left my lips. At least my father wouldn't have no troubles with the clock this time. As I was about to head back to bed, I noticed that the time wasn't really aligned to the present. It seems that despite it working and running, it was still set wrong. It was currently one in the morning but it was stuck in two thirty-eight. I'll just have to tell my father tomorrow.

I let out a soft hum before my feet had led me back to my room.

As I grabbed the blankets from the closet, I couldn't help but feel that there was something odd with it. My feet remained cold and frozen, my eyes turning back to the open doorway. Hesitant. That's what I felt at the time when I could hear the clock's ticking endlessly ringing in my ears.

There's something wrong with that clock.

The initial thought had creeped me out ever since.