Alone In the Bright

Depth was no longer a problem for me. I was nearsighted until I came to this place. Here there are no layers, no shadows, barely a shape. The walls are lined with a sheen of eggshell white, like nothing I had ever seen before. No speckles or blemishes, just pure, untouched, color. It seemed like the room never ends. It has no corners, no doors, no breaks at all. It is just white. The ground has a padded cement feel to it, the same great white as the walls. Try as I might, I cannot scuff the sheen from the floor. The ceiling was a canopy of solid white as if all the clouds had collected into one place and allowed the perfect amount of sunlight through. Not enough to blind you and not so little that you couldn’t make out any detail in the sky. Although the sky above me now had no detail, only perfection.

I walk the halls, for hours. First hoping to find something that will give me a clue as to where I am, eventually just hoping to trip over something to remind me that I am alive. It was becoming unbearable, nothing changed day after day week after week I just walked. I would walk until I could no more, then I slept in that spot so I would remember where i was. There were no breadcrumbs to leave, only white.

I had a dream one night that I found a ladder, and I poked my head to the top of the wall and there was a break from the ceiling to the wall. There I saw a tree, a great Oak, leaves full, trunk thick as an elephant. I hoped to wake up to a ladder, but I didn’t.

I used to work in a factory. I was an accountant. I hated my cubicle, my cube mates, the break room, the coffee, the hours, and the pay. But I loved the work. Checking and rechecking every line of an invoice. Making sure receipts matched. Not allowing any discrepancies. Perfection was my art. But the more I sit in the white room, the more I think about the office. To even see the grounds from the old coffee machine would make the next two weeks worth living. But I’m not sure they are anymore.

I planned to kill myself the next day I woke up. I say the next day I wake up because part of me thought something or someone would kill me every night. At first it scared me, but the longer in the process of working through this room I was, the more comforting that thought was. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, run into the wall head first and snap my neck. Try and do a backflip and snap my neck. I all ready hadn’t eaten since I arrived but I never found myself hungry, or thirsty so starvation was out. I decided that running into the wall would be best.

I started by placing my hand on the closest wall, getting my bearings for the upcoming sprint. Plotting each step I walked backwards ten or twenty paces. I closed my eyes, bent over, and ran as fast as I could. I must have taken thirty or forty strides when I finally opened my eyes, still running and saw nothing but white. I stopped, put my hand out and there it was. So I stepped back five paces and tried again. Running full speed hoping to see darkness, but instead I felt nothing. I put my hand up and found the wall again, right in front of me. This couldn’t be possible how could I stop every time right before the wall. I started to contemplate destiny and a manifest of former beliefs. Tired from trying to kill myself all day I decided to rest and try again tomorrow.

I woke up to something I hadn’t been expecting. A noise. A faint beep appeared from seemingly nowhere and everywhere all at once. Boop, boop, boop. At set intervals this would appear and go away as soon as it had arrived. I tried to follow the noise, but the source was hidden behind the white walls that had imprisoned me. The next day it seemed to get louder, even louder the next day, until finally it was so loud that my ears couldn’t handle it. Sitting in the middle of this room holding my ears hoping the noise would stop. And it did. But was replaced by another noise. It sounded like a person. Calling my name. I tried to listen closer but it never got louder.

The next day something changed. My name wasn’t being called but the room seemed dimmer. The whites weren’t as white. It was almost like the lights were turned down in the room, or the bulbs in my prison were going out. I felt dizzy, and weak. Dropped to my knees, I found myself panting. I passed out on the floor.

The noise was back. Boop, boop, boop. My eyes weren’t open but there was a light that I could tell was on through my eyelids. The lights must have come back on full strength. My name was being called again. I slowly opened my eyes, but there was no white. It was my wife and a few doctors. Huddled around me with clipboards and tears to greet me. I didn’t know where I was but one was quick to point out it was a hospital and that there had been an accident. I had been out for three days.

I never told anyone about that room, didn’t think it was meant for anyone but me.