clock

Tomorrow morning, he was going to get rid of that clock. Who needed an actual clock on their wall anyways? That’s what digital clocks are for. So that you don’t have to listen to that insufferable ticking the whole night while you’re trying to fall asleep.

He turned over for the millionth time and fumbled his sheets in exasperation. He had spent an hour running embarassing scenarios from his past through his head, and now he had a stupid song stuck on repeat.

That’s when he realized the clock wasn’t ticking anymore.

Not that he was complaining, but the clock wasn’t that old. At least, not old enough to have broken already.

He sat up.

The clock wasn’t there.

He didn’t hear a crash, so it couldn’t have fallen. He slowly got up and walked to the wall, running his hand over it.

So it really was missing. He wasn’t sure what to think. This was creepy.

The room was chilly all of a sudden. Was that window open already? The tiredness must have been messing with his head. He was too disoriented to try to figure out where the clock had gone. Maybe it would be back in the morning.

He slipped back under the covers, and when he looked back up, the door was gone.

He was sure he was dreaming now. He shut his eyes, because this wasn’t real and he didn’t want to waste his time in their creepy world anymore.

He opened his eyes after a while of laying there. He had to be awake, he had never had a dream this real.

The room was gone. He was suspended in darkness, only him and his bed.

His eyes shut quickly again, and thoughts went swirling in his head. The confusion was too much. He didn’t like how real this felt.

When he worked up the nerve to open his eyes again, everything was back to normal. The room was all there, complete with the annoying ticking clock. He had never been more thankful for that clock.

He sighed into his pillow. He had just wasted another few hours and he had to be up soon.

Wait.

A few hours?

That wasn’t right. That had only felt like a few minutes. The clock couldn’t be right.

He sat up and held his head in his hands.

The moment was endless.

He slowly lifted his head up and let himself open his eyes one last time.

He was looking at himself, in his bed, floating in a dark void.

“No!” he tried to scream, but his throat was too tight to utter a sound.

He started moving backward, as if a hand was slowly pulling him away. He thrashed and clawed into the nothingness, but the bed with his body soon became a little speck in the distance.

He was gone.