In this backroom I'm slimy vigilant and cold it seems there's just enough light to move a step at a time but not see all the way not here not on the staircase every now and then I'll hear a demonic noise of the animalistic nature my hairs will stand and I'll stop then it fades its saving me I'm saving me ill grow soon I think there's more to this I hope every single day from the moment I wake up till the grueling moment I try to sleep weirdly I feel as if I've passed a few doors.
