Chapter 8
I walk down the many hallways, a feeling of lost rushing through me, but I ignore it unable to admit it. Earlier 2 men came and got me, walked me through so many hallways and rooms I gave up trying to remember my way back. They then left me in the middle of a room full of mirrors only telling me that I could go where I wish, but to choose wisely. So I figured that this is some sort of test, what kind? I have no idea.
After a while everything began to look the same, even after escaping the wild maze of mirrors. I could almost swear that I am going in circles but at the same time, not. However that works?
Every window I see is either boarded-up or to high to reach even with a chair. Each room and hallway has it's fare share of shadows and depressing paintings hanging neatly on each wall profoundly, each one telling a different story. Some I could almost relate to and some felt as though they were directed right at me, like they were made for me.
My feet begin to drag tiredly beneath me, throbbing with each step. Each drag making a horrible loud screech, echoing down the halls and through the rooms as well as my groans. I could sit down but I refuse to sit until I find whatever it is that I'm looking for, or whatever they want me to find or figure out. It may take hours let alone days but at least I might find a way out, maybe, or I might just get into an even bigger mess. But at least no one will see me fail if it does get worse, how bad could it get? Die of exhaustion, hunger, or both? Get lost so bad that they can't even find me? Okay maybe the last one would be a good thing, or maybe not.
I can feel the hard pulse in my feet run up my legs with each drag, each breath I take claws its way up my throat, causing my eyes to tear up. I don't let the tears escape my eyes, even with how much I wanted to, to just give in for once. But it's not going to be today, well at least not right now.
With all this time alone it's left me with nothing to do but think. To think about memories of the past and what could be the memories of the future. No matter what idea I come up with for the future each one ends up with the same thing, death. If Cannon and his men didn't get here in time and can't find me, what do I have left that I could do? Besides doing what they want me to do? Absolutely nothing.
I rub my head carefully with both hands while focusing on the ground in front of me as I still continue to walk. It almost seems like I'm going no where, that I'm just walking around in the same place and someones only changing the pictures each time I walk away just to confuse me. From each window high above dim light sparkles through, the sun slowly sinking down into disappearance.
I try each door I pass, but each one either leads to another room with no doors or the ones leading out are locked and are jammed from the outside. Each one causing frustration to build up more and more each time. Giving me false hope and more willingness to give up and let them come for me.
