Finally drifting to sleep, you close your eyes and welcome the much-needed rest. Now asleep, your eyes flutter open to a white room. Strangely, this is not your first time in this room. But you can't seem to remember any other dreams or memories of this oddly-familiar room. Deja-vu, perhaps? You feel as if you should remember this room, the imposingly white walls seem impossible to forget.
Suddenly you realize you're seated in a chair, not unlike the chairs from a medical waiting room: padded, but far too stiff to offer any sense of comfort. Rising, you look about the room: white walls, a blue and white checkered floor, a black door to your left, a white door on your right, and a victorian era mirror directly behind you.
The black door is not only black, it's darker than anything you've ever seen. Dread fills your bones as you stare at the void-like door, it's knob practically demanding you turn it. Anxious, you turn away.
Next, you glance at the white door. It's worn down and the original wood peeks out from the windows of paint chips made by time. Streaks of dirt and god-knows-what decorate the panels of the homely door. The knob, weary and old, shines a coppery-gold as it begs you to turn it instead.
Twisting once more, you find the mirror. Detailed and older than the room by far, has an omniscient feel to it. It feels as though it's alive and ancient. You feel it drawing you closer.
Surrounded by unknown forces you sit back down into your uncomfortable chair. Unsure, you mull over your options: go to the white door on your right, go to the black door on your left, go to the mirror directly behind you, stay seated, or try to wake up.
YOU ARE READING
The White Room
RandomA choose your own adventure taking place in your dream. You find yourself in a white room; similar to that of a doctor's waiting room. Doors, mirrors, dreams, and voids: do you dare to fall asleep?
