Secret Passageway

Chilly air blows my thread-bare blanket across the room. I get up, shivering, and stumble over to the dusty corner where it disappeared. The freezing floor hurts my feet. This has to be a dream. Moonlight streams into the room through an open barred window, casting light over odd lumps of clothes and random bits of dirty cloth. Confusion fills me with adrenaline, but then I realize it’s probably just a dream. When I fell asleep, I was safe and warm in my cozy bed, in my blue room, with the light on in my bathroom. Now, in this cold, dark chamber-like room, I can only hope I am in a dream. I climb back into the small, creaky bed in this little dark room, and am asleep in minutes. I start awake when a loud crash erupts from below. I wearily blink open my eyes, and I am still in the drafty, uncomfortable room. I pinch myself, hard, so it leaves a dark red welt on my skin. The room still surrounds me at all sides, closing in on me, suffocating me with its gray, stern walls. Panic fills my chest, and my heart beats loud, fast, for a few seconds. I am alone and afraid in this desolate, empty room. I take a few deep breaths, and then clamber out of bed. Walking over to a big brown door I spotted earlier to the left of the bed, I turn the knob. The door being locked, I began to scour the room for any hint of a key. Another step, and a sharp pain erupts in my foot. Looking down, I realize I’ve stepped on an unfolded paper clip. I yank it out of my foot, grit my teeth from the pain. Wiping the blood from the rusted metal, I walk over to the door and fit the clip into the keyhole. I am filled with relief for a moment, but then am filled with a new sense of dread because I am now in a hallway. No light streams in from the big windows dotted along the left wall, because it is not yet morning. It’s probably around 4:00, I figure, but I am wide awake with fear and confusion. I start moving down the dark hallway, casting cautious looks at the long shadows in the corner. There are doors on either side of me at the end of the hallway. One of the doors is painted a cheerful yellow, the other a mellow sky-blue. I glanced nervously at them both in turn, and chose the yellow door to go through. I turn the knob warily, and the door creaks open slowly. Moldy red walls filled from top to bottom with paintings surround me. I walk in, and the door closes with a crash behind me. I break into a cold sweat, paranoid. Isn’t that what happens in horror movies? Despite the frantic thoughts in my head fighting to be heard, I inch over to the back of the room, where another door lies. I take a deep breath, and open the door. A long, steep staircase goes straight down into what seems to be a..kitchen? I dash down the stairs, forgetting to be cautious. Ignoring the orange-ish eggs and bacon that was seemingly set out for me, I raced over to the cabinets, throwing them open one by one, looking for something, anything, maybe a key or a knife to defend myself if it came to that. One drawer contains a box of cereal. It is a generic cereal, without a brand. I suddenly get a flashback. I am opening a box of Chex with my mom, me trying my hardest to put just the right amount of milk into the breakfast. She laughs when I spill little white drops of milk on the table. Tears prick my eyes and I try to blink them away. I don’t want to think about these memories now, in this strange and foreign place. I don’t want to review the possibility that I might never be able to see them again. I reach for the box of cereal and gently pull it out. The sound of stone against stone emanates from behind me. I jump, and instinctively turn around to face whatever’s moving and duck. In front of me, a panel of the bland gray wall moves to the side to reveal an old wooden door, painted clean white. Shocked, I glance around me. The dust on the countertop settles once more, and the kitchen is in its eerie stillness once again. I try to gulp for air, but the air is stuffy and dust-filled. I cough, clutching my stomach. My vision goes blurry, then black. The last thing I see before falling to the floor is the door in front of me being whipped open. I blink multiple times, my vision blurring. An annoying buzz rings in my ears. I swat the area around them, as though a bee is lazing around my head. I force myself to stand up, walk over to the door. I need to find answers. The door, although I had seen it previously opened, was now closed. The eggs and bacon that had been laid out for me were strewn about the counter, the yellow scrambled eggs smeared across the dusty granite that makes me want to vomit. My stomach lurches as I slowly twist the knob. Opening the door, I take a deep breath. Butterflies dance through my stomach as I look at the hallway winding before me. Different doors with my family members’ names on them are dotted along the hallway. What does this mean? A sort of vision flashed across my eyes, and it’s like I'm not in the hallway anymore. Lights flashing. My mom is crying out to me, begging.  And I’m back in the hallway. I give in to the incoming wave of feelings, collapsing to the ground. My body shakes with sobs as I for once let myself believe it’s not going to be okay. I hear footsteps coming closer to me behind me, and quickly wipe my tears off my eyes and whirl around to face whatever’s coming. A gasp suddenly escapes my now parted lips. “Mom?”