Playing God- ORIGINAL

11

Boredom rising up fast, hour by hour walking around an area which was as damp as a piece of driftwood which is sitting in the rain. Hallways spun, and yet no matter which path I took, no matter which path I marked, everything seemed to come back into a full circle.. Back into this cafeteria.

Hallways filled with rooms, photographs of previous members of the flock -or so I assume- strange markings, bloodied hand prints, and many other miscellaneous marks were everywhere. If it were not for the fact that I saw that room of bones as I came through, I never, truly, would have expected what I saw.

Of the path I took, the one which shocked me the most was this one which led me to a singular wall at the end of the hallway. Many names lay across the wall and while I had no idea what they meant, I knew someone wrote them for a reason. Or, rather, maybe it would be better to assume that certain people wrote them for a reason...

If I took the first initial of every name, it wrote:

M A S Z E T H A R N Y O U W I R L L D I E C F R E A G B N M G F

Perhaps it will be explained in the future... After I left I marked this passage way with a 'M' as that was the first letter, and I moved on.

The strangest room I found was what seemed like a chemistry door, one where the air has to blow against you to remove all particles, yet as I tried to touch it, I heard beeping. As I neared it, it seemed as if a siren went off, and the inside of my head began to pound heavily, so heavily I started my walk back towards the room...

It almost seems strange to say this, yet I don't feel for what I saw and touched on my walk. Not feel as in touch but feel as in emotionally. The past me, the one before this, surely would have been different towards the actions of the current me. The past me would have cried, would have freaked out. This was a sign of a change, a change in me which occurred due to what I have been through, and as I clench my fist, sitting on this bed, I fully recognize this change but do not wish to abandon it.

'Maybe this was the feeling of strength? Of Resolve? Maybe this was the feeling of not giving up no matter what has happened.' My wings unfurled, sprawling across the size of the bed easily. Whether or not I like this change, it is what has happened.

Gift? Maybe some would call this it, as the doctors told me this was a gift. To me, however, I did not wish for a red christmas which gave me this gift, I would much rather have had a white snow filled with opportunity rather than a black gift(1)

As the clock spun, I lay there on my bed, my head aching and my eyes unopened, for I have had a headache ever since I came back into this room. My head went on that 'pillow' and...

Nothing.

Another hour passed.

Nothing except that freaking pounding.

Another hour...

NOTHING! FOR GODS SAKE MAKE IT ST-

1:"To me, however, I did not wish for a red christmas which gave me this gift, I would much rather have had a white snow filled with opportunity rather than a black gift" to those wondering, this saying of a black gift portrays death and depression, while the white snow means what is meant to be aka a normal life.