Dark Silence

The room is entirely dark. I look around, and all I can see is the view I get when I look at the back of my eyelids. Silence.

To my knowledge, there is not another soul in the room. “Hello?” I question to what I hope is an audience. Silence.

No panic to report quite yet, just loneliness getting the best of me. I can hear nothing but me feeling about myself exhaling cold breaths as my chest struggles to pump inward and outward, and my occasional utter for assistance; “Help!” I’ve managed to yell out through what feels like an invisible fog. I wait for five seconds; one, two, three, four, five. “Please, anyone?! Help!” I’ve managed to cry out, this time waiting a bit longer for an answer, perhaps ten seconds this time. Silence.

My heart is now racing, bringing to my ears an accompaniment of both my rapid heartbeat, and the deep breaths I’m taking trying to catch up. I stand up to try to find my way around this room with my palms and fingertips, and I hoist myself up by what feels like a doorknob. No sooner than I reach for it after rising to my feet, the assumption I made is confirmed, and the door the handle is attached to connects with my forehead sending me back to the ground, butt first. I hear a pair of mechanical sounds that are almost identical: “chook-chook.” There is a brief explosion, a sudden burst of pain in the middle of my forehead, and the slamming of the same rickety door that almost gave me a glimpse of hope of companionship. My breathing soon catches up to my heart rate, which is nearly still, and I slowly allow my eyes to close as I rub a warm, thinner puddle of liquid from my forehead. Silence.