The sound was coming from the basement. As much as he did not want to go down there, he needed to. Another noise would drive him to insanity, and tomorrow he had a big day ahead of him; a good night’s sleep was essential.
He sluggishly put on his robe, forgetting to put on his slippers.
He groaned as his bare feet pounded against the cold, wooden floor. And the creaking of the floor annoyed him even more.
Finally making his way down the basement, he, now, struggled to find the light switch though he knew every other room by memory–just not the basement.
At this point, he could no longer hear the noise. Why did it stop?
“Fuck it”, he muttered under his breath, and he walked back to the bedroom.
CLACK.
There it was again, but this time it was not coming from the basement. It was the kitchen.
Before storming into the kitchen like a maniac, he first stopped at the entryway and listened intently. The noise had been long gone.
As he grew yet even more irritated, he heard a loud bang coming from the bedroom. He dashed over in search of what may have caused such a ruckus, but, oddly enough, everything was in place: The lamp was still on, like he had left it; the white pillow, still on the floor–he had flung it when he became irritated by the noise; the closet doors were shut and his bedroom door open.
He glanced at the clock and noticed it was 1 a.m.
Knowing he would have to wake up at 6 in the morning, he went back to bed.
CLACK.
And again, there it was. That stupid nuisance of a noise.
CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.
He snapped out of his sleep.
Propped up on the bed, he glanced at the clock.
Still, it was 1:00 am. How odd, he thought. Surely, that time was dead wrong.
He checked his phone, but it too read 1 a.m on August 4, 2009.
He checked outside. It was still dark.
After switching on the television, he found that it, indeed, it was actually 1 in the morning!
He fell back to sleep knowing that he only had a few hours left until he would get up for work.
Finally, he woke up and to his surprise, it was still dark.
Again, his clock read 1 a.m and so did his phone.
What the fuck?
But it was not the time that perplexed him, it was the fact that his phone read 1 a.m on the fifth of August.
He turned on the television and soon realized it indeed was 1 a.m on the fifth day of August.
But how could it be? Had he really slept through the day? What about his work?
Interestingly enough, he was still incredibly tired and inevitably went back to sleep. And from that moment on, he would never be able to wake up to the sight of broad daylight. Nighttime would be the only thing he would come to know.
And he would hear that CLACK and wake up at 1 a.m. After waking up he would go back to sleep and wake up again at 1. am–a never-ending cycle.
Sometimes, it was an alarm that never went off, other times he was simply too tired. But most of the time, it was that uncanny noise that woke him up constantly in the night which led him to sleep in the day, forever.
AllthingsUncanny 