I

Walking down endless hallways with different paths leading left and right, not the slightest clue as to where I am going. The pitch black darkness quickly enveloping my surroundings is not of any help either. The only form of light visible were meager and pathetic looking candles. The flames were weak and the only thing is could light was the candle it self.

As I attempt to move forward, I struggle to move my body; it is as if I am trying to move while my entire body is submerged in a thick muck with cinderblocks tied to my legs, strangely enough, I do not feel anything around me. It does not feel as if I am inside of anything, I does not feel as if my body is being restricted by anyone or anything, as a matter of fact, it does not feel as if I truly exist at the moment. It simply is as it is. The only thing that is known as a fact is that I myself am in a large labyrinth, with different door leading to different and new places. How I know such detail despite the fact that I am in utter darkness is beyond me, along with the fact that I know the location of a number of these doors.

After what felt like an eternity of forcing my body along, I reach the nearest door. My attempt to open this invisible door that stood before me was fruitless. It was locked. The moment I realized this, the knowledge of that door and its entire existence seemed to have fleeted from my mind. Forgotten.

I spend the next eternity making my way to the next door. This door resisted, but with a little force, the imageless door now had a face. It was an elegant door with an intricately simple design. I step into the empty space; the door behind me closes and seems to fade out of existence. For some reason, I did not pay any mind to this, or rather, I did not have anytime to do so, considering the fact that my mind was being over run by the simple sensation of smelling the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies. It was this and this alone that I was able to comprehend. Everything and anything else around me was nothing more than pitch black and empty space that will never be filled. I continued to take in the wonderful aroma, but before long, I also smelled something out of place. It was a strangely familiar scent, but before I could give it a name, I was back in the dark labyrinth, and in front of the door. The thought of re-entering the room did not even cross my mind as I continued to strive forward to my next destination.

The next door was not much more difficult to open than the last, but it was a struggle nonetheless. After the door closes and vanishes behind me, I am back inside the pitch black nothingness destined to remain as pitch black nothingness. This time, instead of the sweet and warm smell of freshly baked cookies, I heard two voices. From the sound of the voices, I could not make out a single word they were saying, I could not even tell what gender these voices were, the only thing that was clear, was that they were arguing. They were arguing angrily and desperately. They continued, and it only seemed to escalate worse and worse. I heard a sudden crash, then silence. Soon after the crash, a faint scent began to emerge. It was the same scent that I had found out of place in the room prior. Unfortunately, before I could make it out, I was back in front of the door. I move on.

I made my way past a number of doors that I had failed to force open. I finally find a door that I am able for to force open. As I walk in, I stumble and fall on the floor. I was shocked for a moment at the fact that there was a floor to fall on. The floor was covered in a carpet; this carpet was a deep red color. The carpet itself smelled strongly of that faint scent I have smelled twice before. It was a bitter stench, and I was still incapable of giving it it’s proper name.

As I was about to pick myself up, I look ahead of me and freeze at the sight of a second door down another long hallway. I could not pick out any details of the hallway itself, for my attention was focused upon the door that was slowly beginning to open. Behind the door was a man, a man who was trembling and looked as if he could hardly stand. On closer inspection, I saw that his clothes were torn and ragged. I could not make any details of his face. The only thing that I could tell was that he had just cracked a smile, and thick red ooze began to pour out of his mouth. I closed and rubbed my eyes in hopes that it will improve my vision, but I found myself standing back in front of the door when I opened them. I move on.

The next few doors I do not even bother with. They all looked too easy to open and I felt that they were not even worth my time. I continued to wander aimlessly in the darkness, waiting for something to spark my interest. As I was beginning to lose hope, I stepped on something hollow. I look down at the darkness and begin to gently stomp just to be sure. I get on the floor and begin feeling it. To my shock, it was a door. I quickly did all that I could to force it open. I was struggling, it felt as if I would never be able to open it, but for some reason, I was compelled and desperate to do so. I began to resort to jump up and down on it as hard as I could to break through the door. I felt like a child throwing a fit for no apparent reason, especially since I had not the slightest clue what was beyond this door, but, I truly could have cared less because my desperation was the only thing driving me forward. Then, without warning, it felt as if time around me had stopped. Even myself, I was somehow still in mid-air ready to stomp on the door once more. I look down at the door and see that I am still going down, just, very slowly. Then all of a sudden, the door swings wide open, I am shocked, but I was not given the time to think since I began to fall full speed into the door’s darkness. I was falling, the thought of gravity had never occurred to me until now. Which way I was falling? That was another matter entirely.

I was still stuck in the pitch black emptiness that will remain pitch black emptiness. Then I felt something strange, or rather, tasted something strange. It was a metallic taste, and with that, the same bitter, familiar, faceless scent was all around me. Only then did I consider the metallic taste in my mouth and the scent one and the same. As the name of this strange taste and smell was about to arrive in my mind, my entire body was in uncontrollable pain. It was a blunt pain, as if I was being tossed around like a useless toy about to break and be abandoned. I thought nothing of the pain other than the fact that it was pain. Not until a terrifyingly amazing feeling had overtaken my mind and body. This feeling sent chills throughout my body that even the pain could not. The feeling was fear, the fear that death will be upon me soon. Death, the end, the act of no longer living, my entire existence gone, never to laugh again, never to smile again, never to cry again, never again to be comforted, never again to feel the love another, never again to enjoy life’s simple pleasures, never again to take my happiness for granted, never again to breath in life, never.

With death hanging over my head, I had but one thought, If I were escape my fate for only a moment longer, I will cherish that moment. If I were to live a minute longer after that, I will carry the feeling of that minute where ever it is I may go. If I were to live even a day longer, I will bask in life and of its glories.

This simple thought brought about an amazing feeling, a feeling that contradicted fear itself, but could never be without it, this feeling was hope. The simple want of tomorrow; the simple feeling that seemed as if it could carry me forward for an eternity. I am now lying faced down, no longer falling. The feeling of fear is no longer present, nor is metallic taste in my mouth or the pain in my body, or the hope for tomorrow. That amazing feeling was now gone, for nothing can last forever. But then and only then did it occur to me, Why? Why is it that I know such a feeling? This was my childhood. Why did I forget? Why is this no longer my life?

My face still down, I feel a thick liquid slither through my hands. I raise my head to look at my hand. It was covered in a red ooze, it felt thick, I smelled it, it was the same bitter scent I smelled time and time before, I tasted it, metallic, then I felt idiotic for not realizing sooner, but now I knew that this was blood. It was blood the whole time. It is blood that binds everything together. It is blood that was constant through these memories. It is blood that keeps my life intact; and it is only the loss of blood that will ever bring about that sensation. Why? What kind of life did I have that would make me feel this way? What happened to that life? Why is it no longer mine?

I look up; in front of me was a door. From below the door is where the blood was seeping from. Behind this door, it’s the reason why the life I once had is now gone. I begin to crawl forward. Desperately reaching for the door, just as my trembling finger were about to come into contact with this door, I began to fall again. I watched and reached towards the door with a desperate hand as I fell further and further away. I hit something, and I find myself on the ground of my room in the dead of night, back to reality, thinking to myself, in the furthest reaches of my mind, no matter how much I wish to deny it, I want my life back.

The current life I am living feels like that of a broken record, destined to be thrown away. I wake up every morning in my dorm to forcefully say hello to my more than less than idiotic roommate, I go to perfectly clean and dreadfully boring school to learn what I am told to learn, I come back and do what ever it is that is needed to be done, and then I go back to a quiet undisturbed sleep. I live repetitious life of a high school student. Probability says I will graduate then move on to a job I will most likely find as a burden to carry, get married with somebody I have to tell my self I love, have a child which will then consume and become my life; then like everybody else, get old, and die; for it is a sad fact that my existence is as insignificant as a speck of dust, in the endlessly vast space, and that is something that will not change until I do; and now it is time to resume my pitiful existence which will later lead to my pitiful end, but there is nothing more to do than move forward, or at the very least give my pitiful attempt to.