The Dark Room

Alexia Quraeshi

It’s dark. I can’t make out any of the details but I know I am in a small room with no light source. The only thing that is in this room is a door. The door is locked. The door won’t open no matter how hard I try, even when I try to move it with force the door barely shakes at my efforts. It seems hopeless.


Suddenly, I see a light shining through the cracks of the door. There must be someone on the other side, then I hear voices, some familiar some not. I cry out, but no one can hear me. I pound my fists against the door, but no one reacts. Then finally something happens.

The room gets smaller.

It gets smaller and smaller until I am in the fetal position and trying to knock on the door, begging for someone else to open it. At this point I know no one will open it and I fear that the room will simply be my coffin.

I whisper for help and finally someone hears me. They respond, I cannot tell who it is but at this point I don’t give a damn. I beg them to open the door as I feel my throat burning with fear and my eyes getting moist. The door is open, the light on the other side is blinding but I can make out a hand reaching to pull me out. Now all it takes is for me to reach…

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