I was awoken by a creek and bang on the floorboards. It was the middle of a harsh bitter winter storm in England and I was alone. I had become homeless in the summer after losing my job. I could now see the true horror I was surrounded by as the light submerged from above me piercing my skin. I was stood in a small room that was filthy, crumbling and of no use to anyone who lived. I looked out the window and saw the vibrant greenery of trees towering over the building.
As I unfolded a musky piece of falling wallpaper behind me, I found it’s unfaded truth and it revealed tiny white icons of gleaming fairies on a backdrop of pink this once loving haven had died. The wall beneath were ancient and ice cold. The floor was littered with grey rags and growing bright lime moss was everywhere to be seen. The smell of damp was hitting my face like being woken from a bad dream.
I followed the cracks of the walls into the air to where the ceiling should have been but instead, I am met with wooden beams rotting like flesh. Gaps of daylight flooding through accentuates the grimy floor. A gust of wind flew past my face from the destroyed window and rattled the wooden rusty door. The view from the window showed just how high up I was and how secluded. I could see nothing but tree for endless miles in each direction and one battered brick path leading out to freedom.
In the room was a dusty single bed a locked wardrobe and a desk that had fallen over. I lifted the empty desk and read the words ‘Property of Gale bridge children’s home’. There was a rattle coming from the wardrobe and to my horror a rat jumped out unfazed by my presence it continued what seemed like a ritual towards the window stepping over all the broken glass. A chair with three legs in the corner lay lifeless.
Night had fallen but bright stars appeared to be invading the darkness. No longer could you see the disastrous mess I knew was around. The trees appeared like black monsters ready to pounce. The strong winds caused the glass along the floor to rattle and bounce. I scrambled over the mess to reach the door as I turned the bitter cold handle it squeaked like a mouse and lead me to an infinite hallway.
