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Six. Five. Four. Click. Click. Two thousand one hundred forty. Two thousand one hundred thirty-nine. Two thousand one hundred thirty-eight. A large clock was mounted on a smooth, steel wall. This clock, had numbers ranging from two thousand one hundred forty to four. The clock had one hand, which would move the opposite direction a hand would normally move around a clock. The number four was at the top of the clock, while the number two thousand one hundred forty was at the bottom.

The wall, the same that the clock was attached to, was connected to other similar, smooth, steel walls. All of the walls, even the ceiling, looked exactly the same; smooth, steel, and were exactly ten feet by ten feet. The only difference was that one wall had a large clock on it. The clock was positioned perfectly in the dead center of the wall it was attached to. The room had no light source, but yet, was perfectly well lit, with not a single shadow. A small girl, who looked to be about eight, sat against the wall opposite of the wall of which the clock was attached to. The girl had her face in her hands, and was crying.

When a disembodied voice, coming from within the smooth, steel walls, asked the small girl what was wrong, the girl began to explain her dilemma. Her name was Abbey, and she was born in New Hampshire, on January 21st, 1996. Her parents divorced when she was three, and she stayed in New Hampshire to live with her mother. Her father moved away, and never attempted to make contact with either her, or her mother. As she grew up, she befriended a neighbor boy, named Jeremy. Abbey and Jeremy shared everything with each other, and had a common connection; they both had the same birthday. Three days before both of theirs 7th birthday, Jeremy disappeared, and everyone was puzzled. No one knew where he had gone. Abbey refused to believe he was gone, and threw temper tantrums, often breaking her own toys and her mother’s valuables. A year later, on Abbey’s 8th birthday, her mother gave Abbey a large box covered in wrapping paper. She still wouldn’t accept that Jeremy was gone, and ran out of their house, refusing to touch the present. She ran into the street, and was hit by a pickup truck. Then she was here; in this room.

The same voice replied in a calm tone, and asked her again, what was wrong? The girl got up and started screaming; repeating over and over again, that she had already explained it. The voice, still calm, simply asked her to stop screaming. The girl sat back down, and asked the voice; why the clock ends at four, instead of one. The voice laughed, and stated that wasn’t a clock. The girl began crying again, and the voice said to stop, and listen. The girl obeyed, and put her ear up against the wall. Crying could be heard on the other side. The girl asked the voice, if it knew who was crying. The voice answered with a grunt. Click. Click. The hand of the clock was back on two thousand one hundred forty. The girl asked again, why the clock ends at four, instead of one. The voice grunted again, and explained to her that it wasn’t a clock. The girl started to cry again, and asked the voice why it had to be so difficult. The voice began to say something, but the girl interrupted it, asking again about the clock. The voice got frustrated and began to yell, saying yet again, that it wasn’t a clock.