From a place I hate to the place, I hate the most, huh?
Did I just say that?
…
I guess I did.
The moment I stepped through the door, it disappeared.
It didn't even wait until I closed the door, it just disappeared.
It blinked out of existence, which left a monotone grey wall in its place.
Freaky…
I just sighed and took a look at my room and needless to say, it was a mess.
An overturned bed, broken shards of glass, a desk collapsed onto the floor, a somehow intact wardrobe, and splintered floors greeted my sight.
Was it always like this? Maybe it was, who knows?
After all, this room burned down years ago.
So…I know I have asked this many times but where exactly am I?
Am I imprisoned in my own mind? Is this what those comatose people said they saw?
I thought those were just myths…
What am I…I don't even know what to ask anymore.
This room has no door, that was the first oddity I noticed.
It has a window, though, a small one and when I looked outside, what greeted me was the black void of space I saw while I was on the bus.
Am I actually in a coma? After all, a guy experienced a whole life once when he was in a coma or something.
I'm pretty sure it was called The Lamp Story or something…
So, am I in a similar situation? If so, how can I get out?
Clink...clink…clatter…clink…
As I was contemplating my current predicament, a high-pitched clattering noise knocked me out of it.
What?
I immediately looked at the direction of the sound which was right around my foot.
This…
I picked it up with my left arm; the smooth, cold surface felt comfortable to wrap my fingers around.
"A clock?"
I asked to particularly no one, just myself.
It was a clock, not a normal-looking one; of course, everything in here had to be strange.
It was a spherical glass clock.
I observed it from every angle, even drop tests and guess what?
It was unharmed no matter how high I dropped it from. I even hurled it at the ceiling, and it came back down unharmed.
…
I guess I will hold onto it for now.
My pockets are too tight for it so I had to hold it in my palms.
Now what?
Where did it even roll away from?
Too many mysteries…
The bed is overturned, the desk is destroyed, and the only intact thing is the wardrobe.
It was a classic wooden wardrobe with a glass mirror.
First, the pile of broken desks needs to be sorted out because I suspect something must be under them.
And thus I got to work.
Which…
Didn't work out as planned.
What is this thing made of!?
It was one of its legs, well, half of it, which only had the length of my forearm and I…
Was unable to pick it up.
It didn't even budge.
I did everything and nothing worked.
Everything in this pile was the same, nothing moved when I tried to move them.
Nothing.
What in the hell?
I eventually gave up and moved onto the bed.
Which was also, unfortunately, the same.
…
I stood where I previously did, with my back to the wall where I came from.
These things don't move at all.
I freaked out right now.
What freaked me out most was the half-intact mirror on the wardrobe.
Of course, it had to be the mirror.
Every single time.
At first, I didn't notice, but when I looked at my reflection closely, I realized that I didn't have one.
I don't have a reflection.
Is it the mirror's fault? I'm pretty sure that I heard from somewhere on the internet that you shouldn't look at your reflection in a mirror while dreaming.
You might wonder why I brought that up.
I have three possible answers to what is happening to me right now.
A messed up dream, coma or I'm stuck in a liminal space.
I just want to return home man.
If it's the liminal space, something that is dangerous to me might exist here.
If it was a coma, maybe I might not ever wake up.
If it was a dream, it might have the same conclusion as the coma.
Will I die like this?
In a coma, a dream or a liminal space?
Whatever this was, will I die here?
Dammit.
Think positively.
The door has something to do with this.
Doors have something to do here.
Even the glass clock serves a purpose here, it has to.
It is obvious for the glass but how am I so sure about the door?
Well, I'm not so sure, but I found another one.
Another door.
Behind the wardrobe door.
I didn't open it and left. I needed to sort out my thoughts and calm down, but it didn't go as planned.
I just made more stress.
But I'm sure that door is the only way out of this room.
From the bus to this room and from this room to the next thing.
From one stage to another, these doors take me there.
So if I get to the next door, my objective should be to find the door right?
Well, what if it isn't? What if this is the last type of door I will encounter?
What if this door doesn't even take me to the next stage? After all, I haven't opened it yet.
What will I do?
…
I took a deep breath and calmed down my thoughts; in my right hand was a glass clock, while my left hand was free.
I wanted to take a piece of the glass shards to use to defend myself if I encountered anything but they were too ''heavy'.
Whatever.
I don't care.
I will find my way out.
You can call it wishful thinking or whatever but I will find my way out.
Thus, I took huge strides towards the open wardrobe with a door inside; it was the same one I used on the bus, plain white, and it had a metallic knobe.
Even the nameplate was there, too.
I stood right in front of the door, the white plain door that would possibly take me to the next stage.
And without hesitation, I gripped the knobe and turned.
And the door opened.