There was no plan for this one…
There was no plan for any of them.
The Room Of Nightmares.
Where are you?
The room is bare, no walls or doors, or tables, or chairs. The room has white walls, bright white walls. Not like the freshly painted kind either. These are the kind that look like they were crafted of a matte white sheet smoothed to perfection, no shine at all.
You spin around and around and around and around trying to catch any small detail by passing quickly over the room. It had to have been 10 minutes and you’ve checked everything excessively, even the depths of your memory in which you found nothing but white blinding lights.
You tried so hard to conjure a memory but for all the life in you, you couldn’t remember a doorway or a struggle in which one would suspect they’d see if they had watched many blockbuster movies.
It wasn’t a situation you’d willingly put yourself into. No, you are too much of a homebody. You need your laptop, phone, bed, and things around you, this was not right.
You don’t know what time it is anymore.
Your clothes are usually black. Black leggings, t-shirt, hoodie, socks, hair ties. Everything. Black. But there is only white in here. You can hear your heart in your ears now. The walls beat out that rhythmic thump thump, thump thump.
You can feel it through the floor. It makes your legs turn to jelly and they shake violently beneath you so you spread them out hoping a change in stance fixes your issue, but the trembling continues rising higher up your legs.
The shivers approach your pelvis and you feel them on the inside of your thighs. You know there’s nothing to grab hold of and the feeling keeps rising, your bladder feels full suddenly, the urge to pee is prevalent and you start bending your knees, bouncing, feeling short bursts of reprieve for everything.
The shakes are in your fingers now and your head shakes violently looking everywhere in the room for a way out or a way in. A way to be heard or be seen; but then a thought comes to you, just as you feel pins and needles tickles your toes inside your white shoes.
The thought remains in your head as you reach down to rip apart the shoelaces, frustrated by your shaking hands. The pins and needles begin rising but you refuse to let your body touch the floor; sitting will mean defeat but you need these shoes off now.
A voice rings out over the thump thump thump. It fills your head, and the room around you vibrating the walls and floor, forcing you to give up and endure the feet pain that has now turned your feet numb, your body to follow.
What if you are being watched?
What if this is a test?
That voice is you. Your subconscious thoughts, saving and protecting you as your mind should when your body cannot fend for itself. The last line of defence has shown itself.
Something in your mind, a wiser power tells you to tilt your head upward. Your staring right into the corner, where two walls and the roof meet. Your eyes flick from one corner to the next, to the next, to the next. The similarities are obvious; the differences, not so much.
A different coloured dot marks each corner. Just small enough for you to make out with the most intense of concentrations.
“Red, Green, Yellow, Orange.”
No sooner had the words left your mouth, feeling came back into your neck, muscles loosening, the pins and needles less painful than before. Another Idea came to you. If the words spoken gave your reprieve, then the rainbow would cure all; and you spoke again.
“Red, Orange, Yellow, Green.”
Like a headrush, you could feel everything again. The thumping in the walls vanished and so did the vibrations in the walls and floor. If things couldn’t get any weirder, you notice the white from the walls vanishing, turning to a hazy grey, then to an all the way clear glass.
Your optometrist stands at a control panel behind the glass to your left; a satisfied smile on their face. They lean down and press a button on the panel and speak directly to you.
“You have passed the first test. Now for test two.”
They press the button again and silence overwhelms you once more. Before you have a chance to register changes, the walls turn back to a hazy grey and then the same white as before; your eyes as wide as saucers and feet planted to the spot like trees, nothing made sense. One thought runs through your mind.
Where the bloody hell are you?
What clichés do you like to read about?
With Love Bree xx
I'm a Book Depository Affiliate! Get Free Shipping on ALL BOOKS Everywhere! © Jasper+Spice 2018. All Rights Reserved. Please do not use without my permission. This post was not sponsored, all photos and graphics are of my own creation.