2 .01.

Tick, tock goes the big, white clock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Those sounds are slowly killing me. With each tick, I am reminded of how I am oh, so alone. With each tock, the depression steadily increases. I am dying an infinite death. Tick. I am reborn. Tock. I am sacrificed to the monster living within that big, white clock. The tick, tock of the clock has permeated my dreams; that monster now chases me within my sleep. My sleep? How precious. I haven't slept in days, or weeks, I don't have a clue. I've lost all sense of time in this gleaming, white place completely devoid of windows. White, all I see is white. I am so sick of white. I continuously contemplate slashing my wrists just to get a little color around here. I am drowning in the vast sea of white and the whitest thing of all is that godforsaken clock. Tick, tock. The monster approaches. Tick, tock. Oh, how I hate that monster. Tick, tock. Oh, how I hate that clock.

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