These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No, these are the other stories.

The other stories.

Penance.

Written by Andy Conduit Turner Narrated by Persephone Rose

Thud!

With a start and a sharp intake of breath, James' eyes snapped open in the dark of his bedroom.

A dim glow emanated from decorative stars which adorned his ceiling.

He was beyond the days of needing the stars or any other type of nightlight, but he still found them comforting.

After a few moments taking in the glow of the dark

cosmos, James began to listen for signs of activity in the house. Everything was quiet, no muffled

TV sounds from downstairs, or voices from his parents' room to indicate they were still awake,

just the gentle ticking of the clock on his bedside table.

Tick, tick, tick.

It was a sound he soon regretted allowing himself to tune into, as each passing Tick seemed to stir him further from asleep and p peek his curiosity about the time.

Tick, you awake? Tick, what time is it? Tick, you should check. After enduring the nagging of the clock for what seemed like forever, James gave in. In one swift movement, his left hand

forsook the warmth of his bedding to grab the clock from the bedside table and drew it

close enough to read the time. The smug to grab the clock from the bedside table and drew it close enough to

read the time. The smug smile of the caped superhero, his arm serving as the hands of the

clock, greeted him and quickly answered his question. Tick, it's 317. Tick. A.m. Tick, you should be

asleep. Groaning, James placed the alarm clock back onto his bedside table and, gripping his

duvet in one hand, rolled over, turning his back to the clock and its reminders of the late hour.

...