A/N: Hello!

So not really sure what this all about really but I started writing and then just decided to post, sorry about that. Some thoughts from Edith, I'd say series 1.

Thanks for reading.

Seconds, minutes, hours...years slowly crept by but still there she was. Unchanged while everyone moved around her. She often felt she were like the numbers on a clock, remaining constant while the hands passed by so quickly. Much like people, they would stop occasionally. The chimes changing as the years went by, the pendulum always swinging, the whole clock always ticking.

She had no secret nor a lover. No shame, no blame. Nothing. She wondered if this is why she felt so lost. She had no story. Her life was boring and when she would look back, when she was older she was sure people would ask her story and she would open her mouth and there would be nothing. No secret children or a regret of what could have been. Mary had her regrets, her shame and Sybil had such a wonderful story to look forward to she was sure. She felt she should have something that was bad but there was nothing. No lies, how had she made it this far? No scandals, that's what every young girl should be, perfect and she had been but her parents didn't care for it. Is that what they needed to see her? A scandal to illuminate the shadows? Chasing empty dreams and everyone to blame. Why couldn't anyone tell her what they wanted, what she could do? She felt she were disappearing slowly and everyday a little bit of her would go missing and soon no one would notice she was there at all. All she needed was a scandal, a secret. She had found one in Mary but still it was not hers and when released she only got pushed further into shadows. If I am made to stay in the shadows can I at least dance in them? No, even the best dancers fall in the dark.

Numbers can fade, fall off the clock face or sometimes even get changed. That was all she was waiting for something to change her. Rouse her smile, ignite her dreams and make her own heart start beating much like the ticking of the clock. The never ending cycle of time was comforting in some respect that the sun would rise and fall and the seasons would come and go but she would always come to the same conclusion, that in the end aren't we all on some clock? Whether it be for children, marriage and the biggest one of all. Life. How long was left on her clock? She would often think when the hours were at their darkest. She wasn't sure anymore, she wasn't even sure that she wanted to keep counting up the seconds, minutes, hours...years for it felt like her time had already passed...had already run out. Her hourglass had got stuck, was broken in someway, sands that never change. Who would be able to turn her hourglass back over?