text: Her eyes snapped open. She was staring at a concrete ceiling with a single, bare light-bulb hanging from the center. Her senses began creeping back to her and she realized how cold it was. *Where am I?* Her breath, visible in the light, mirrored the foggy feeling she felt in her head. “My head,” she groaned, little louder than a whisper as she attempted to rub the tiredness from her eyes. Her head ached and pulsed with each heartbeat. She had no memory of anything before this room. Her heart began to beat faster, and sweat beaded her forehead as anxiety rose within her like floodwater in an elevator. She jolted upright and attempted to stand up. Her legs were lagging behind her brain and didn’t feel as though they were entirely hers. Quickly, though not fast enough for her panicked mind, she regained control and was able to stand. She closed her eyes and drew deep, steadying breaths. “Relax,” she breathed to herself, “you can figure this out”. A few minutes passed and her pulse leveled out. She opened her eyes and assessed her surroundings. Though dimly lit, the room was small enough to reveal itself to her with just the light provided by the single bulb. No more than a concrete box, there were dark brown stains on the floor and walls that, she told herself, were from water damage. The floor was tiled in white, though due to the cleanliness--or lack thereof--it was more of a yellowish-brown now. On the wall directly in front of her stood a single metal door, cracked open ever so slightly so as to let some of the light from the room spill into what lay beyond. Next, she started to take stock of her physical self. She was cold, she knew that without doubt, and naked. At just over five feet tall, she was skinny but healthy, with well-toned legs that seemed to belong to an avid runner. She was also filthy, caked in mud and blood. Goosebumps pimpled her skin as anxiety once again seeped into her brain. On her left thigh, a slight bruise was visible just below her hip. She brushed her fingers against it and found no pain, much to her relief. Though she could not see her face, the left side felt slightly swollen and tight. When she touched it she discovered half-dried blood, spattered sporadically along her forehead. *What happened to me?* She had a feeling deep within her that something was very wrong, but she pushed it down deeper to allow herself to move forward; she needed to get out. With trembling breaths, fogging before her face like some ghostly apparition, she carefully crept towards the door, sure every footstep would alert some unknown force to her presence. As she placed her hands on the ice-cold metal, she braced herself for what she might find on the other side. Gingerly, she pushed the door open and let it swing into the void. The hinges, rusted and in disrepair, creaked in protest as the weight of the door carried it open, echoing out into forever. Her breath caught in her throat. Staring back at her through the doorway was...nothing. The faint light emanating from her room was no match for the impossibly dense darkness that greeted her; A war of dark and light was being fought just past the threshold, and the dark was winning. Just to her left, opposite the now open door, she could make out a wall. She stood, allowing her eyes to adjust, hoping against hope that what little light she had would allow her to see further into the abyss. Nothing changed. Small tears began to slide down her face, a product of both fear and solitude. She quickly gathered herself. Placing her hand on the wall, damp and sickly soft under her fingers, she felt her way forward and stepped into the emptiness. Each footstep squished what she prayed was ice water between her toes. The floor felt like moss on a fallen tree beneath her feet, wet and soft, yet hard under it all. The void smelled of mold, thick with must but thinned out by the cold, and she could hear nothing but her own shaky breathing, the light padding of her feet on the floor, and a very distant and muted *drip, drip, drip*. After what felt like an hour of slowly feeling her way forward, a faint sound was carried past her ears on the frigid air. She froze and held her breath, dead silent. She could make out what seemed like a muffled conversation, miles away. *I’m not alone*, she thought to herself. She stood, frozen in time. The presence of this disembodied conversation should have been unnerving to her. Instead, she found warmth and comfort in these voices. With no other options, she quickened her pace and moved forward. As she hurried through the darkness, the sound grew closer, louder. She could make out individual voices now. Excited and feeling that she was nearing the source, she began to run. Suddenly, there was silence. A deafening silence, blocking out even her own footsteps. She attempted to stop suddenly but, legs still weak, she stumbled and fell. Her body hit the soft ground soundlessly. Shocked by the extreme cold and wet, her heart skipped in her chest and she shuddered violently. In what seemed like slow-motion, she stood and found her balance. She grasped the darkness, searching for the wall which she had come to treat as a life-line. Her eyes, wide with terror and useless in the dark, began to water in fear. Finally, her fingers brushed something. Lunging in the direction of the sensation, she found the safety of the wall. Leaning against it, she sunk to the cold, wet floor and sobbed. No sound came from her mouth, even as she screamed against the darkness and cried. This made her weep harder, the silence reminding her how alone she truly was in this place. Gradually, she began to hear an echo. She thought it was her mind at first, in an attempt to fill her senses with *something*. But, as she collected herself and listened, she was sure it was there. The sound of a man, sobbing, and the familiar *drip, drip, drip*, that she had been hearing before, only now it was much louder, closer. She stood and took uneven breaths in the dark, attempting to settle herself once more. Moving forward, the sound quickly grew louder. Sobbing, quiet as if someone was trying to hide it, but there nonetheless. Then, directly in front of her, a ray of light, only a few inches wide, kissed the ground. As she came closer, she could make out a door, the light coming from behind it. With one hand steadying her on the wall, she reached out and pulled the door towards her, open, blinding herself with the bright light. Her senses were overloaded with information. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she could see that she was in what must have been a hospital room. The room was painted yellow, and there was a window along a wall to her left. Warm, comforting sunlight shone through, and she closed her eyes and allowed it to wash over her. *Beep, beep, beep*. The harsh, electronic sound brought her back to the present, and she opened her eyes. A woman was lying in the hospital bed. Her face, though cut and bruised, was pretty. She looked young, perhaps in her late twenties. Around her were monitors and IV stands. Tubes and wires hung, disconnected, and the monitors were all off, except for the steady *beep, beep, beep* of the heart rate monitor. She then noticed a man sitting in a chair next to the woman. Head hung low, both hands clutching the woman’s, so hard his knuckles were white. She felt something for this man. Sadness, longingness perhaps. It hurt her to see him like this. The man stood, leaned over the woman, and kissed her on the lips. A long, gentle kiss. A goodbye. She began to feel in her chest that something was wrong. Panic once again consumed her and tears fell from her eyes. As she opened her mouth to scream, she was ripped backward out of the room. The door slammed in front of her as she flew backward through the darkness. Back...back...back *He’s not that bad*, she thought, as she ran along the familiar neighborhood roads. Her husband had come home a little drunk after a night out with some friends. It was Friday, after all, and he was a funny drunk anyway. She had a stressful day at work that day and was maybe a little hard on him. *I’ll apologize when I get back*, she said to herself. She loved that man too much to stay mad at him very long anyway. Running was her way of relaxing, and she’d been running on the treadmill in college after a particularly hard final exam when she ran into him at the gym. They had been in love ever since. She drifted off into her music and thoughts as she approached her street. As she came to the intersection, she looked right to ensure no cars were coming. She began to run again, telling herself that she’ll have a few drinks with him when she got back; she deserved it, after all. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light. A car horn blared and she turned. Light, noise, pain. Then, nothing. Silence.