Growth

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The ticking-tocking clock is ultimately my rock.
If it weren’t for its ever persistent notes of the passage of time, combined with the heavy weight of gravity pushing down on me, I would think I was floating in a pitch black abyss.
Is it dark in this room? Or are my eyes just closed?
The world is so dizzying. My mind’s foot is slipping off the ledge of a tilting ship.
Is the room getting smaller? Or is my body growing?
This room isn’t large enough… but I can’t see it. It’s going to pop.
My world is about to end.
There is so much pain. Something is clawing at my head—trying to tug it from my body.
So cold… it’s dragging me out of my home. Ripping me away from the warmth and from the comforting sound of the clock.
I screamed in agony and fear as the monster wrapped its claws around my whole body.
This is surely my death.

“It’s a boy!”