Falling.
...
You land on the floor of a dirty subway station. You analyze the area around you, and see tracks in front of you. There is litter and old newspapers scattered around the floor. A rat skitters around by the wall. There's a small drop from the platform to the tracks. You peak your head over the tracks into the long, dark tunnel they lead into. The long tunnel seems so familiar to you.. Yet so unusual at the same time. You stare into the gaping dark for a little longer, and then decide to walk to the end of the tunnel on the tracks. You step off of the platform and onto the tracks, feeling the cool metal of the rails beneath you. You suddenly hear a loud horn blare at you, and the sound of wheels barreling over the tracks. Headlights flash, blinding you. You leap back off of the tracks, not wanting to get hit by this monster of a vehicle. A subway speeds past, the bright light illuminating the subway. Your eyes are like those of a deer, glazed over and mesmerized as you watch the vehicle speed past. You can make out the silhouettes of people inside of the subway. The sound of the subway eventually fades away as you watch the taillights fade into the distance. You decide to step back onto the tracks, your only mission to not step on the cracks. You can't explain it, but there's an implied doom that will follow if you slip on the cracks. You extend a shaky leg, and step onto the first board.
You look up after taking a few steps. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you see a door in the distance. You look down once again, and get a sudden dizzy spell once you notice the drop beneath the tracks. You know that if you were to fall, you would surely- but it'd be better that you didn't think about that. You take another hesitant step across the boards, your legs seeming to get heavier with each step. The more you think about the simplicity of not slipping through the cracks, the more anxious you become. You break into a nervous sweat. You are so close to the other door. You just can't step on the cracks. The subway starts to feel cold, your legs turning to bendy lead beneath you.
Don't slip through the-
You slipped through the cracks. You begin to tumble, falling between the tracks and barrelling through the air of the void once more. Falling. You land in a long hallway with lights that are too bright. At the end of the hallway, there are three doors. You walk up to them, and examine them. Clocks seem to be ticking from all angles. Tick. Tick. Tick. One of the doors is made of a polished gray metal. The face of a digital clock glows on the door. When you press your ear against the door, you hear the low buzz of machinery behind it. You stand in front of the door for a little while, and then move on to the next. The next door is made of clear glass, a clock sealed inside of the glass. When you look beyond the glass, you see a room that is full of clocks. The clocks cover the walls and the floor. Clocks cover the ceiling, every inch of the surfaces covered by clocks. You slowly inch away from the clock room, and approach the final door. The last door is made of a polished wood, and has an hourglassed carved into the front of it. The wood smells like vanilla. You press your ear against the door, and hear the soft sound of children's laughter.
You touch the door handle, and it warms under your fingers. You turn it, and the door slowly creaks open. You step into a light void that has doors lining the edges of it. The doors are floating, and there is no floor beneath you as you walk on an invisible surface. There's a moment of stillness, and three people walk in after you.
The first person is a tall man with a muscular build. He has short brown hair and a scar tracing up his left cheek. His eyes are tired, a shade of light green. He appears to be in his thirties, his posture relaxed as he stands, leaning slightly on his hip. He has a small smirk playing across his lips. He's wearing a slim black turtleneck and jeans.
The second person is also a man who appears to be in his thirties. He's slim and slightly shorter than the first man. He has light brown skin tinged with lighter patches, and long black hair that drapes over his shoulders. His dark brown eyes twinkle excitedly, and he's smiling kindly. He has a satchel draped over his shoulder that has a thick book of sorts within it. You can't quite figure it out, but something about this man seems oddly familiar.
The third person is a female. She has long golden hair. Pressed into her forehead is a glowing teal crystal. She's only about as tall as you are, if not, shorter. She's wearing a magenta dress. Her face is blank, totally unreadable. She stands with her chin up, her back straight, stiff as a board. Her features are all flat, extremely bored. Only two emotions come to mind when looking at her. Bored, and more bored.
The man with black hair's eyes widen as they fall upon you. He lets out a shocked gasp, "Emma? Emma, what are you doing here- How are you doing here!?" He exclaims in shock. You blink slowly, your mind blanking out for a moment. Emma. You're.. Emma. Information suddenly floods through your head. Emma Conway. Female. August 11, 2008. Fifteen. 4913, Ashdown Ridge. Resident of Canada. Student at Richmond high school.
