Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Oliver Eden suddenly sat up in his bed allowing the damp sheets covering him to slide off his chest. He looked around the room as he pushed back his brown hair from his eyes (it was too long for a boy according to his mother, but he refused to have it cut), seeing all the dark shapes that he knew were furniture, but once he saw the old-fashioned grandfather clock looming over him on his left, he cringed. This clock was the reason why he hadn't been able to sleep properly for the past week.

Oliver and his mother had lived with his grandfather since their house had burned down two years before. Oliver was fine with this because his grandfather knew how to have fun (even for an old guy), but recently he had started buying a lot of junk. Part of that junk was the grandfather clock that stood on his left mocking him, and it would've been placed in the living room if there had been any room, but because there hadn't been, Oliver got stuck with it.

At first the clock hadn't bothered Oliver too much, but now that he was extremely sleep-deprived, he felt that every time the second hand on the clock moved, it was like a church bell ringing in his head (which wasn't very pleasant). Oliver had never hated anyone or anything, but now he could just imagine himself setting fire on the evil clock and watching it burn. A tiny smile crept along his mouth as he fantasized for a moment. The minute hand moved, bringing him back to reality and Oliver noticed that the clock was about to strike thirteen. Wait. Thirteen? He tried to focus his tired eyes on the clock, but he kept seeing the number Thirteen where the One should've been. For a moment he thought it was just his lack of sleep but he decided to check, just in case. He pulled the sheets off, got out of the bed, and walked right up to the clock. What happened next was completely unexpected.

He suddenly felt as if a rope had wrapped itself around his waist and was pulling him forward. Hard. Before he really had anytime to react, an enormous black hole appeared where the clock had been standing and he was sucked in.

He instinctively shielded his eyes and for a few moments refused to put his arms down in fear of what he would see when he lowered them. After what seemed like ages he thought he heard a little girl speaking, so he gathered up the tiny bit of courage he had and tore open his eyes. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. It looked like he was falling through what seemed to be just orange-colored space with clocks ticking all around him. At first he hadn't heard the clocks but gradually they had gotten louder and now they sounded like thousands of church bells in his head. His brain was in complete shock, but he was able to notice that the little girl's voice was getting clearer, even through all the noise. After a moment or so, he realized what the child was saying over and over again: "Do you know what time it is, Oliver?"