Room 93 (FIRST DRAFT)

Present

'That is all Mr. Newman,' Elizabeth says and she stands up, tucking the chair under the table and taking the mugs to the sink.
'It isn't. You told me you were trapped in a room with nine people including yourself and only you and Eric made it out, so far you have only introduced Eric and yourself so far,' I argue. I know it may be private but it is important her voice is heard. What ever happened when she was seven was pretty bad if it effects her like this,
'That is all I will be telling you Mr. Newman. I would assume that you wouldn't want to waste your time here so you should leave now,' she doesn't look at me as she speaks, she remains looking at the mugs she is cleaning,
'Ma'm, this will help you too. If I publish this then...' I begin
'If you publish this story Mr. Newman I shall tell you what will happen, I will die and so will Eric. That is exactly what will happen the moment you type that up, and it'll probably kill you too. Maybe other people's lives don't matter to you but your own life might persuade you to think otherwise.' She interrupts. She goes red in the ace as she talks and finishes drying the mugs up,
'The police could protect you Ma'm.' I tell her, hoping to coax her out of the shell that she buried herself in after years of anti-socialism,
'How? Mr. Newman, I asked you when you came in if you believed in hell. You said no. Well hell does exist. I have been there and lived. Hell isn't somewhere made up. It isn't somewhere that you go to where your naughty, it is somewhere you go when your scared and lost. You don't get to choose Mr. Newman it just happens and you either live or you die, simple as that. No tears shed.' Her outburst stuns me and I just stand watching her. I have never been good in awkward situations but this is completely different, 'Follow me.'

She walks off upstairs. The stair creak as we ascend and I can't help but shiver. The whole house seems to creep right under your skin and rip you bare. I have nothing to hide behind, nothing to conceal myself. Everything seems to be wandering around shouting and screaming secret about me and the things I have heard or seen. I look at Miss. Moore, I expect to see fright or displeasure or at least some sort of indication that she isn't at ease but I see nothing. She has an extremely good poker face. We reach the top floor of the house and the strings that keep me open and bare go slack. I can physically feel the strings being released.

'In this room.' She points to a room that is empty except for a bed. The walls are painted white and the carpet is grey. She walks over to the bed and bends down, looking right underneath it,
'Ah, there it is!' She takes out a small leather book that is bound by white string, 'Read it.' She hands me the book and we sit side by side on her bed.

Dear diary,
My name is Elizabeth Moore. It's my birthday today! Happy birthday to me. Mae was telling me at school yesterday about her birthday parties. She has cake and chocolate and party games. Friends come over and they have lots of fun. She asked me why I wasn't having one. I told her I don't like the sound of them. What else was I going to say? Mummy doesn't let me have parties because I have no purpose and no one really likes me, no one will remember me after the party and I will die alone? No I couldn't tell Mae that. Mummy shouted at me the other day. She shouted today too. She told me that when I die it will be like I never existed because no one likes me and I won't be remembered. What if it is true? What if I am nothing?

Love...
Liz xxx

I close the book and put it next to me. Wow, she certainly had a rough childhood.
'Why are you showing me this?' As intriguing it is to find out more about this woman I don't see how it fits into her story,
'I wrote this the day before I disappeared. It might be important later on in my story,' I sigh with relief.
'You're going to tell me what happened?' I can barely keep the joy from my voice,
'Alright, but only because when they come you'll die too...'