Click Click Boom Personal Author's Note: I'm taking time to write this on everything I upload for a while. I was working on a major update of my writting to be posted the 13th of September. It was almost finished when the tragedy occured on the 11th. I was personally shaken by it and wasn't in the mood to write much of anything. Finnaly, after nearly a month I started writting again on the 5th of October. I'm trying to get things together and back to normal. I'm happy to be writting again and I still hope you like it!

Author's Note On Story: Confused by this story? Don't worry. So am I.

Click Click Boom

Click. Click. Click.

It's so in tune with itself. Every single time the click is exactally like the click before it. It just keeping clicking... Goddamned clock.

Click. Click. Click.

Or tick, whatever you want to call it. It just clicks - ticks, over and over and over and over. You wouldn't think this would intrest me, exept that every time it clicks it's one click closer to the say it stops clicking.

Click. Click. Click.

Every click is the same and the space between clicks is exact. Precise each time. It's never off - very reliable. That is, until suddenly it just stops. It can't keep clicking forever. Even if I replace the batteries - nothering doesn't die, even manufactured things.

Click. Click. Click.

Already. Three seconds and three clicks closer to the last click. I wonder what the last click will be like. I wonder what I will think. I wonder what it will feel like for click. I wonder what it will sound like.

Click. Click. Click.

Just like the rest, no doubt. It wouldn't even know it's the last click. Neither will I. Not until suddenly - it doesn't click anymore. Only after the click will I know it was the last.

Click. Click. Click.

The clicking almost drives me insane sometimes. It's so perfect and precise - something I will never be. It is so dependable, it never fails. Until, of course, it fails the ultimate and only last time.

Click. Click. Click.

I hate the clicking. It's so perfect and I'm not. It's the exact image of what I'll never be. I swear it clicks just to annoy me. It's last click will probably be my last breath.

Click. Click. Click.

This is bullshit. I can't TAKE it. It just CLICKS AND CLICKS like it has nothing better in this shitty little world to do. And here I am, listening to it becuase I have nothing better in this shitty world to do either.

Click. Click. Click.

It's not my fault I have to hear the clock tick. It's really not. I don't want to hear any more clicks. I wish they would just stop. That way they're be nothing - nothier like I am in this stupid bed.

Click. Click. Click.

Dammit, I just want a life better than this. Is that so much to ask? I NEVER wanted to be stuck here like this. Sometimes people go by and wave, say 'hi' in a thin high-pitched voice. I DON'T KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE - So WHY do you say 'hi' to me?

Click. Click. Click.

At least I know that clock. It's not fake to me just becuase it thinks I'm some sort of retard. I mean, I can never talk to the clock - or anyone - but that isn't the point. The clock hears me, it is what I always want to be. Perfect and Precise.

Click. Click. Click.

I didn't chose to be born this way. I can't even more. I couldn't even through the clock at the wall all the time I've wanted to. It's not my fault and it isn't fair. I wonder if anyone even knows my brain functions just like everyone elses.

Click. Click. Boom.

And then there were no more clicks.