Short Stories

The White Walls

My body feels sore. My limbs are stiff. It's as if I've been laying down in this strange position for hours on end. Everything aches when I go to move. I open my eyes to nothing. Pitch black. I hold my breath and check to see if I'm accompanied by someone else. Silence. I'm all alone in this unfamiliar place.

I struggle to stand up. My arms and legs feel like static. As I slowly get on all fours the only prominent pain is emitting from the back of my head. The pain coming from my limbs has gone numb. I push up off of my hands, now only on my knees. Standing up with both my feet planted underneath me, I turn in a circle. With my weak gaze I try to find a source of light. Nothing. Just a deep abyss. Despite my best efforts, I fail to find some sort of wall when I reach my arms out.

My eyes see a slow change in the lighting and the area around me starts to get brighter. It stops. Silence follows. Just as quickly as it had come to a halt there's a flicker of light and everything lights up. I clench my eyes shut and hold my arms up against my face to shield myself from the sudden brightness. I keep my eyes closed and give them time to adjust. What I see when I lower my arms is a complete surprise.

White walls. Pristine white walls. There is nothing on them. No pictures. Nothing. My eyes land on a pile of small boxes that have been neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Again, just like the walls, the boxes are bare, just plain brown. There are no doors or windows in my line of sight. The air smells heavily of bleach. Like someone has tried to clean this room repetitively. Of what substance, I don't know.

One foot after another I take a few steps towards the boxes. The sound of a piece of paper crumpling stops me. Directing my gaze down, I see an off white coloured note peaking out from below my shoe. Taking my right foot off of the paper I reach my hand downwards. My body aches, my limbs still feel stiff and heavy. I grasp the note in my hand and try to stand up straight. My shaky fingers unfold the paper. Black cursive writing covers the page, it reads:

'Don't be crushed, you'll find out where you are once you find the key.'

My dark eyes scan the message multiple times. The words confuse me. A slow hum fills the room and I force my vision forward. I lose my hold on the paper and it flutters to the floor. Listening closely, I hear the mechanical churn of gears shifting, although it's muffled.

Gazing at my surroundings, the thought hits me like a slap in the face. The walls. They're closing in on me. The note finally makes sense. The key must be in one of the boxes. Rushing forward as fast as I can, my numb legs restricting me from going faster, I reach the brown pile. Falling to my knees, I wince in pain. I lean forward to grab a box. Opening it I find nothing. The inside is just as bare as the outside. Throwing it aside I glance at the walls. They are way to close for comfort. Though thinking about it, anything that will crush you will always be to close. I soon realise that opening each individual box will take to long, so I resort to grabbing one in each hand and shaking.

The walls are now two meters away from me and I have about ten more boxes left. Speeding through four with no key, I clutch the sixth and fifth boxes in my hands. When shaking them I hear a twinkle of metal against cardboard from my left hand. My right hand loses grip on the box and races to open the one in my left. The key inside catches the light when the lid is lifted. It's a rusted bronze colour, it looks like its been used many times.

Getting up on my feet, I look to both sides of me. One meter. Turning around, my eyes lock onto a panel with a keyhole. Walking as fast as I can I reach the wall and lean against it with my left hand, in an attempt to stabilise myself. My right hand, which is shaking violently, rises to place the key in the lock to end this horrid nightmare. The walls are now brushing my shoulders and I have great difficulty in trying to shift my arms. Turning my body to the side, I raise my hand in order to put the key in the lock. The sound of the gears turning is mocking me. A whimper slips past my cracked lips when I feel my body being compressed. Tears start to blur my vision as I think of my fate, of the mess I've been put into. The key is finally in the lock and twisting my hand to the right the walls come to a stop. Through the walls you could hear the muffled groan of the gears stopping. Even though my body is hurting badly, I breath out a sigh of relief.

The walls don't retreat. Nothing is happening. I'm held there by the walls, wondering what's going to happen. The only sound being my laboured breathing. That's when the sound reaches my ears. It's the hum that I heard at the start of this nightmare.

Screams erupt from my mouth when the walls started closing in again. Yet they don't echo due to the lack of space. The tears come yet again, dribbling down my cheeks and down my neck. Feeling every bone crack sends waves of pain throughout my body. Slowly every inch of my bodys being crushed and I start to see black cloud my vision. Blood spilt, tainting the white walls with its' crimson colour. My throats feeling so raw due to all the pained cries that leave it. The pressure on my chest increases and I'm left short of breath. Gasping for what little air can enter my lungs. My throat feels like it's closing. Vision dimming as I quickly slip away.

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