I open my eyes to see nothing but darkness. Am I dead? I ask myself as I sit up from the cold, cracked floor.
Looking around, I notice that the other way around from the way I had woken, there is a small pinch of light. More like a light yellow streak. I never knew if "the light" was supposedly long, short, small, or big. So I might still be close to death. I'm glad. But what happened to me if so?
I stand up to look closer. I bump my head as if I was the one who had grown rather than the ceiling being low. That being, the small room has me stand bent over... A very uncomfortable manor, but oh well.
I take a step near the light shining from below. I'm scared of everything... everything. I don't know where or when I am. And can't figure out how or why I am here. Walking toward the light, I become no longer blinded by the dark. It's as if I had triggered a string leading to a switch. But there was none to be seen.
The lights came on! All on their own. Suspicious. I noticed which direction I had been facing, slight downward. I was looking down at some oddly patterned floor, and it seems checkered, but as well its pattern are going in all directions. This all seems an illusion, but why? Why? The one question we all ask ourselves and others everyday of our lives. 'Why?'
The room is small and full of growing and dead vegetation. Mold and ivy spewing from every angle. The walls are painted dark beige with silver and gold trim. It sounds delightful, but is actually quite horrific. The pattern tells stories never told nor written.
One thing that stands out is this door. Tall and wide and full of mystery. The peeling of rust was something to not forget; and something I hadn't forgotten. Deja-vu's tackling me suspiciously. And it isn't letting go. The door is memorable with its bloody iron smell and dark velvet. The only difference between what I remember was that from the view... it was only a foot tall. Oh, how could I ever fit inside there?
