Hallucination

Chapter 1

      It was chilly and damp. Wind blew from an unknown window open nearby. The stained, beige carpet squished as Moira slowly walked down the hallway, clutching her cardigan closer to her and shivering. Her luscious curly red locks framed her pale face, attempting to keep her neck warm. Wall paper the color of Sahara Desert sand with its odd scarlet stains peeled off in certain places bringing a new meaning to a haunted hotel. Brown doors closing off the rooms complimented the decrepit wallpaper and carpet. Each door had its own unique altercation. Other than the tears and the doors, the walls were as blank as Moira's mind at the moment.

     An abrupt panic set in, rushing Moira to find a door she could open as fast as humanly possible. She hastily ran from side to side, jiggling the doorknobs of every room in sight. Not a single one opened. Moira continued down the hallway, tears forming in her eyes. She felt stuck, as if there was no escape, and for a few moments there wasn't anywhere for her to go except for straight down the hallway. That is exactly what Moira did, except she took her time, attempting to open doors that wouldn't open anyway. Moira approached the end of the hallway, wondering if the last door that faced her would open. The last door stood tall, glowering down at Moira. She touched the door, feeling for every last crevice and scratch. She slowly turned the knob and it complied to her wish. As the door creaked open, a familiar voice called her name.

      "Moira. Moira Walsh, come on we have to get to class." Thomas Broder, Moira's childhood best friend, nagged at the red headed girl who was staring off into space at her locker when the late bell rang.

"What?" She looked to her friend next to her, confused as to the recent events.

"We're officially late to class for the third time this week." Thomas explained unenthusiastically. The pair started making their way down the hall to their classroom. "You're having those... things... again, aren't you?" Moira simply nodded in response. Her best friend sighed; Moira told him of her struggling lately with illusions.

"Have you seen the psychiatrist I told you to go see?" he asked. She stared off into the distance again, trying to remember everything from what happened a few minutes ago. Thomas cleared his throat beside her, trying to attract her attention. She blankly stared at him before he repeated his question, "Have you gone to the psychiatrist yet, Moira?"

"Yes."

"What has he said?" Thomas's uncle was a "new age" psychiatrist, one of the ones that feels that yoga and kale smoothies can help cleanse the mind as well as the soul. He knew Moira's family wouldn't be able to afford a psychiatrist without help, so he referred her to his uncle, who would cut the price down for his best friend.

"He hasn't said much," she replied halfheartedly. She knew that if she told her best friend the whole story, it would only make him worry about her even more. Conversation stopped when Moira and her best friend reached their classroom. She opened the door to a dimly lit hallway. A feeling of confusion swept the young girl's face before she remembered where she was.

      'Am I back here again?' She thought to herself. Moira's curiosity took over allowing her to try at the doors again, more calmly. As she made her way to every door down the hallway, she realized the doors weren't going to open at all, just like last time. Moira decided that instead of wasting her time, she was going straight to the end of the hallway to open the last door again. Moira held her shoulder length hair in a low ponytail, bouncing against her back as she ran down the hallway. The more she ran, the longer the hallway seemed to be. Her breath quickened, she was running out. The oxygen in the building seemed to have disappeared. Moira stopped her movement and doubled over trying to catch her breath. The girl choked in the air that kept seemingly disappearing. Coughing, the carpet caught Moira's fall. She couldn't breathe any longer and gasping for air wasn't doing any good, only doing harm to the body. As Moira took her last breaths, her eyelashes fluttered and her eyelids started to feel heavy. A migraine from insufficient oxygen set in, pounding in a rhythmic time against her head. It wasn't ideal, dying in the hallway of a building that appeared to be haunted. She always thought she would die by something natural like a heart attack, or by something crazy like her town being drowned in a tsunami. It would have to do, as Death is unexpected. Moira closed her eyes for what may have been the last time and let Death take control of her body.