I can’t remember anything at all. Children were screaming, blood flooded my vision, I was so tired. My legs were scratched and broken I think. I dragged my mangled body through the caves, to the glowing pool. Everything swam with a red film. I lifted my body over the pool and positioned myself over it, getting ready to dive right in. I heard the tortured scream of children echoing through the cave.
I cringed, tears streaming down my face, and they fell into the pool, creating ripples that slapped the sides. I tried to drag my body towards the exit, towards the children. My foot caught on a rock and I screamed in pain. I looked in the pool at my reflection, my face was scratched and my hair was coming out in clumps. I heard a loud crash, I looked towards the entrance, “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I passed out and slipped into the pool. I sat bolt upright, “I remember!” I shouted.
“I remember,” I said a bit softer and scooted back and felt the fuff of huge white pillows push up against my back. I looked down at my hands, which were lying on satin white sheets, in fact, everything in the room was white. The walls, the bed, everything. I looked back at my hands; they were scared, bruised, and bloodied. I reached up and felt my face, it felt just as scared, bruised, and bloodied as my hands looked.
I suddenly remember the children screaming, and sank
into a huddle, with my knees pulled up to my chest and my head on my knees. I shakily wrapped my arms around my knees. My body was wracked with sobs, and soon my pristine white nightgown was soaked with tears. “How did this get on?” I whispered through the tears. “Well, I should get up and look around, maybe I can find some clues.”
I crawled out of the queen-sized bed and put my feet, shivering at the cold, on the floor. I soon realized that it was freezing out from under the covers. Hugging myself to conserve warmth, I started to walk down a small hallway. When I reached the end, I saw that it was a bathroom, though it didn’t have a mirror. Everything was still white, and it drove me crazy.
I stepped out of the bathroom and put my hands on the wall. The wall was bumpy and it scratched the burned and scarred tissue on my hands. But I liked the feeling. It made me forget that everything I had was gone, all because I passed out because I had failed. I shook my head. “None of that now,” I whispered.
A sudden thought popped into my head. I brought my hands closer to me until just my fingertips were touching the wall. I sucked in a deep breath and started to run, my fingertips trailing behind me on the wall. The blisters on the tips of my finger burst and my blood started to satin the walls red. At least now there was some color.
My fingers on my right hand left the bumpy texture of the wall and caught on the smoothness of a metal door. My hand automatically stuck and I fell on my face. My knee twisted underneath me and I screamed in pain. My face slide on the cool tile of the floor ripping my cheek and my hands were pinned at an awkward angle underneath me.
“What the heck was that?” I said, then instantly regretted it. Talking had wiggled my cheek and stretched the broken skin farther apart. I saw the blood from my face start to make a puddle underneath my head. I scraped my arms out from under my stomach and I pushed myself off the floor. I looked up at the wall that my hand had caught on. It was easy to find, my blood had left a bright red smear down the door, that started about half was up. The door stretched up to the ceiling, and when I looked closer, I could just make out a handle to slide the door to the side.
I lifted myself up, my legs screaming in pain. But I ignored the pain and settled myself on my feet. I stared curiously at the door, worked up my courage, and grabbed the handle. It was cool to the touch and turned as if it was newly oiled. But the door creaked on the slide. Though it might have been because I yanked it back.
I looked into the depths of the closet but all I saw was the same thing. The closet was filled with frilly white dresses. They were all white, no other colors. This place was driving me crazy. I yanked a dress off its hanger. It just slipped off and it annoyed me that it didn’t rip in the slightest. I through the dress on the ground and saw that I has stained the dress with my blood.
I realized that my hands were still bleeding. I slowly walked back to the bathroom and scoured it. I found bandages and tape underneath the shining white sink. “Surprise, surprise. The bandages are white as well.” I rolled my eyes. I was growing very tired of the white.
I sat on the porcelain toilet. It’s cold seeped through my still soaked nightgown.
Comments (0)
See all