A/N: It's cliche and been done a gazillion times before, I know. This story is a little different than the ones out there, but never mind what I think. Read & Review :)

Disclaimer: Not mine... seriously.

Just so you know, anything that you find confusing will be cleared up in later chapters and this story takes place sometime around the present to the near future.

Just Like Clockwork

She heard their voices drawing near. Louder and louder, they came!

"Come on! Work, you stupid thing!" She whispered frantically, shaking it. It must happen, it had to happen. She was not going to die here.

"Please! Please..." At that, the golden watch began to vibrate, the clock hands turning rapidly rotating backwards.

"There she is!" A boy shouted.

The island behind her was all a blur as full scenes opened up before her eyes. Jack's face was looming over her, a smirk upon his face. Piggy was twitching hopelessly in the sand. Roger was pushing the boulder. And Simon, oh Simon, and all of that blood. The littluns were dancing and chanting wildly. Samneric were crying out about the beast on top of the mountain. The boy with the birthmark was being engulfed by flames. And Ralph. Ralph was there, patting her on the arm. Ralph was building the shelters. Ralph was blowing the conch.

Faces spun around her and the Lord of the Flies laughed manically in her ears.

"Running away now, are we, Lucy?" She heard Jack mock, but he was slowly growing fainter and fainter.

This was it, she thought as the world around her split open, sending her spinning and spinning through a whirlpool of light.

And then there was nothing.

Chapter One- Tick Tock

Someone kill her now.

Was it possible for one to be so bored?

Lucy Everard and her mother were spending Sunday afternoon at her great-aunt Eliza's house, as they did every week. That was fifty-two times a year and two hours a visit. Let's see, fifty-two multiplied by two was a hundred and four hours she would have to spend yearly until the day she died. She turned twelve in April and had already spent approximately 1,248 hours of her young life listening to her old-fashioned, uptight relative who insisted on serving them crusty danishes with their tea!

Aunt Eliza was obsessed with their family history and liked to talk about how her great-grandfathers and grand-uncles served courageously in the navy, braving storms, uncharted islands, or something of that sort.

Lucy might have thought those stories could have been rather exciting, at least if they were being told by someone else. Coming from Eliza Everard, they were just lengthy twenty-page passages taken from a dusty school textbook.

Mother was not the least bit understanding. She forced her to come with her. Lucy expected that the only reason was so she wouldn't have to sit through the monotonous ramblings alone.

Apart from being dreadfully boring, the little lectures were also rather gruesome, as her aunt often described violent killings in great detail. Today's murder was about several schoolboys tearing at one of their friends after mistaking him to be a wild animal.

"And the blood poured out of him just like that!" Eliza said, emphasizing the last word with a bang on the table, causing Lucy to jump, spilling tea all over the scratchy pleated skirt that she had been forced to wear every time they came here ever since Eliza had deemed her jeans and beat up trainers 'simply improper.'

Her mother reached over and took the tea cup from her hands. "Oh dear, you better wash it off before the stain sets in!"

Her great-aunt waved her away, saying, "You know where the toilet is!" Then, she started talking about how her deceased brother, Ralph, was a smart boy who could time travel.

Lucy seized the excuse to escape and swept from the room. It was certain. The old woman was batty.

Still, she could not help be admire Aunt Eliza's home. It was a rather large manor with stone walls, cozy fireplaces, and hallways that she could lose herself in. Tiptoeing up to the fourth floor, she entered the bathroom she liked best.

The walls were painted a pale lavender and the towels were embroidered with a fancy silver "E". Grabbing one, she dabbed gingerly at her clothes, wondering if Eliza had always been completely mental.

Sighing, Lucy examined her skirt. Hopefully, it would be damaged beyond compare and she would never ever have to wear it again. She cheerfully tossed the wash cloth down the laundry chute, recalling the time a few years ago she slid down it on a dare.

She remembered all the times she searched the house on her little expeditions. She doubted that there was anywhere she had never been, any nook or cranny she'd never explored. But what if there was? Mischievously, she grinned and quietly shut the bathroom door behind her. She wouldn't be missed.

Leaving no cupboard untouched and no drawer unopened, Lucy got to work on the top floor. This task, after twenty minutes, proved rather unsuccessful. She tapped the walls, looking for secret passageways. She rummaged through trunks, scanned through letters, and checked under beds.

Yet, she found nothing extraordinary.

Disappointed, she huffed and leaned hard against the wall of the narrow corridor, only to be hit in the hit with something small and wooden.

"A handle!" She exclaimed, following the string to its attachment on the ceiling. Lucy pulled on it and stepped back, as a rather large chunk of the ceiling had been lowered down to the floor, revealing a rickety set of stairs.

It landed on the floor with a thud, sending a cloud of dust flying everywhere. She sneezed and carefully made her way up to the hidden room.

A rather small attic awaited her. It was filled with all dozens of crates, photographs, and knicknacks- everything jumbled up in a disorganized fashion and covered in a thick layer of dirt and who knows what.

Lucy was in heaven.

She set several boxes aside and pushed her way through the mess to the one, tiny window in the corner. The musty smell was suffocating. Opening it all the way, she took in a deep breath and clapped her hands together. There had to be something, anything. A trinket of some sort. She would know it when she saw it.

Starting with a pile of newspapers, she flipped through them, practically losing herself in the stories. Her family was listed in most of them, the ones about war heroes, survivors, and martyrs.

"Perhaps Aunt Eliza isn't so batty after all," Lucy murmured to herself and looked up, momentarily distracted by a flash of gold in the corner of her eye.

Hanging on a nail in the wall was a pocket watch. It called to her, so she picked up, turning it over in her hands. The clock face was peculiar. It had the numbers one through twenty on the outer circle and one through 99 on the smaller circle.

The hour hand was pointing at 19 and the minute hand was at 55. Perhaps it was broken?

Lucy held it an inch from her nose, examining it closely. This watch was special, no doubt about it. She gave it a squeeze, hoping it would speak to her in some way.

She found herself asking to be taken away on a real adventure. I must be going crazy too, she thought, laughing nervously.

With wide eyes, she felt it shake so violently, it almost jumped out of her grip. Her knees gave way as she started to spin around and around. Flashes of color and light whipped past, as if she were on the carousel from hell.

"What's happening to me?" Lucy screamed as she fell into a never ending pit into darkness.

Darkness.

A/N: Tell me what ya think! Should I continue?

Even if you didn't like it, you all get a free hug. I happen to be in a very good mood today :)