Tick-tock

Tick-tock.
The ticking of the clock was enough to drive one mad.
Tick-tock.
Within this blank room, it was the only noise.
The only alteration to silent oblivion.
Tick-tock.
Pacing the length of the room, I searched for the machine. My hands felt the parts of the wall that I could reach, my palms tingling as they easily slid along the cool, slick surface. The clock had to be here, despite what my eyes told me.
Tick-tock.
An empty room couldn't produce such a sound. It simply couldn't.
Tick-tock.
Yet once again, my search resulted in nothing. Clasping my hands over my ears, I longed for the silence I had grown accustom to.
Tick-tock.
Why had this ticking appeared? Where was the clock?
Twisting, my eyes darted around. It had to be here. Dropping to the ground, I pressed an ear to the cold floor.
Tick-tock.
It was everywhere. The ticking echoed throughout the room, leaving no corner untouched. Nostrils flaring, my hands dug into my hair and clenched it. My heart threatened to burst free from my chest.
Tick-tock.
Releasing a cry, I scrambled to my feet and pressed my hand to my chest.
Tick-tock.
I was the clock.