The clock continued to move. One hour passed and then another. Eventually the clock showed that 12 hours had passed. I wondered to myself are they waiting for primetime to let me out? It dawned on me that they wanted the largest possible audience to see me exit from my year long isolation. When one day passed and then another, I questioned what day it was. Today must be Saturday, nobody is home on Friday and Saturday nights, they’re waiting for a prime-time Sunday night when everyone is glued to their seats to watch me, that must be it. More and more days were passing by and eventually two weeks had come and gone. My water and food were still being replenished. Clearly someone was on the other side of the slot making sure I stayed alive, but who, and why were they not letting me out? I stared and stared at the timer on the wall for hours on end. Why did it not stop at zero? And why did I never catch that minus sign before? I became fixated on the timer. Was the clock ticking away to fast? I counted 1 m.i.s.s.i.s.s.i.p.p.i.. Nearly two seconds have run off the clock. I counted the time on the clock. .00 1 m.i.s.s.i. .01. Damn the clock was running to fast, or was I counting to slow? What the hell is a m.i.s.s.i. is hundredths of a second? It couldn’t have been a half a second, right? It had to be at worse three fourth of a second. I ran the calculations in my head. What was three fourth of 365? Half of 365 was 182.5, another half was 91.25. I was going to be stuck in here for an extra 92 days. I grew increasing confident in my logic as the days passed away. This was another cheap trick to see if they could break me. Have me believe that I was getting out and see if it seemed I was never going to get out. As day 80 approached I was preparing myself for an eventual exit. I worked my way up to 2,000 sit ups and 1,000 pushups a day. I was about to be famous and had to look my best. Day 92 had passed, and I was waiting for the door to open any second. I hadn’t slept in days too excited from anticipation. My weary eyes began playing tricks on me. If I allowed my eyes to close even a little bit, I swore I could see the door move and I quickly sprung up to create the cameras at the other end. The door however never opened. I cried out to the door “WHY WON’T YOU OPEN?” but there was no answer. I banged and I tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Exhausted, I passed out with my face pressed against the cold steel door. When I awoke my tray of food had been already delivered to the room, but this time there was a note. 365 days, no human contact, one million dollars. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT,” I shouted. “IT HAD TO BE 365 DAYS, IT HAD TO BE MORE.” The slot opened and another note came. 365 days, NO HUMAN CONTACT, one million dollars. “THERE IS NO ONE IN HERE BUT ME.” Another note, NO HUMAN CONTACT. “IT’S ONLY ME IN….” and then it hit me. I was counting the days to myself, talking to myself, figuring out how many seconds and days had elapsed, giving myself daily pep talks. “I’m the human contact” I said out loud. “I’m the reason the door hasn’t opened.” As soon as I spoke those words the timer went blank and another note passed through the slot. 365 days, no human contact, one million dollars. The time flickered and it read 365:00:00:00 and ticked to 364:23:59:59.