There's no movement around me. It's silent. I can hear my own heartbeat. I'm so tired... I don't think I can open my eyes. What happened? Where am I? I force my eyelids open. All I can see is a grey ceiling. I slowly sit up, revealing grey walls and floors. I cautiously let my eyes explore the area of the room.
No windows, no bed. There's a light bulb. Too high to reach though, and no point anyway. And there's a door. A metal door. No handle. The wall has a giant "3" written on it. There's some scratchy writing on the walls too. "51," it writes. "51 Days."
51 days? I look closer, not seeing an explanation. I read more writing. Day 34 is also written multiple times. The writing is mostly the numbers 12, 17, 21, 34, 39, and 51. Of course there's a giant number 3 on the back wall.
I slowly stand, my legs are shaky. I don't know why I'm standing, there's no where to go. I walk to the middle of the room, slowly, trying not to fall. I stand with more strength now, and all my thoughts reach me.
Where am I? Who am I? How did I get here? Why am I here?
My legs give way, and I fall to the ground. I fall on my knees, and my body falls forward. I catch myself, letting my palms land before me.
I can't control my body. I try to talk. Yell, ask for help, anything, but I can manage is random grunts and noises.
What happened!?
I turn to the door. It looks strong. There's no markings on it. It looks like there's a small pet door in it answell, but I can't tell.
Once again I try to stand, but it doesn't work. I can't muster enough strength to even stand. So, I crawl to the door.
There's no handle.
How do I get out?
I slump down against the door. I hear my own breath; constant, fast, and heavy. I feel tired.
There's a small 'ding,' and the small pet door thing opens. I blink, and look at it, to weak to try and escape.
A note slides in, along with a granola bar. I turn and read the note.
Welcome to room 3. Your name is Leo. More information tomorrow.
Leo? Okay. That's an okay name. I calm down a bit.
I look at the granola bar, but I'm not hungry. I ignore it, and close my eyes. Not on purpose though, I just can't keep them open.
YOU ARE READING
51 Days
Ficción GeneralTrapped in a room. Nothing here. No windows, no bed. There's a light bulb. Too high to reach though, and no point anyway. And there's a door. A metal door. no handle. It opens once a day. I can't see what's out there, but every time it opens somethi...
