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The Clock is Ticking

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I stare at the clock.
I ask it, “Why won’t you go faster?”
It doesn’t respond.
As I look around the classroom, I finally realize something.

The truth is, I don’t want the clock to go faster.
I want to freeze it and never let it go.
I realize that once I die, buried in the ground, my life will no longer exist.

When I am gone, I will miss walking in the park,
watching tiny toddlers run around, laughing about life,
mindlessly living theirs to the fullest.

When I am gone, I will miss watching the sun rise,
and letting the warm glow of a new day soak into me,
like soft butter melting onto golden-brown toast.

When I am gone, I will miss sitting around the campfire with my family;
listening to my brother tell the scariest stories his 7-year-old mind could manage.
Putting my roasted marshmallow to sleep under a blanket of dark chocolate
and graham crackers, and not even caring about the gooey
mixture forming around my mouth was one of my favorite parts.

When I am gone, I will miss the simplest things in life;
walking on the beach, letting the hot sand pinch my sensitive toes;
the warm feeling of kissing my parents goodnight;
tasting the delicious BBQ chicken that makes my taste-buds sing with joy and letting my eyes feast on the magnificent rainbow of fireworks on the 4th of July;
and even waking up early to go to school, will no longer be apart of my everyday life.

Finally coming out of my daze, I find myself still staring at the clock.
I know that when I die, I will miss all of those things;
but for now, I’m still here.
I decide to not think about what I will miss when I die,
but instead I will think about the wonderful memories I have made doing these things.

I look at the clock again,
but this time I ask it, “Why won’t you slow down?”





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