Tension

Dried and clothed, the door looms open, the hallway beckons.  Jane looks into the darkness, the light from outside illuminating her tiny white room only to cast deeper shadows to the places she must move on to next.  Fiddling idly with her freshly cleaned nails, the soft clicking tapped out between them counts down the seconds before she can no longer wait.  Soon the soft padding of flesh and floor will to move down the hallway and force her to face the day.  The same day she’s faced before, countless times, always the monotony of horns blaring, mouths chattering, screams reverberating throughout her mind.  She looks into the mirror.  Her eyes stare back at her, understanding, but accusing all at once.  The clicking of the nails subtly becomes louder, each tiny tap drilling deeper into her thoughts, shredding whatever ideas, hopes, or dreams she once held in her now numbed mind.  Still, the dark hallways loom before her, waiting for another brave soul to explore its secrets, daring to know the mysterious enigma.  She has walked the slim, cramped space countless times, the shadows and cool emptiness pervading her very soul.  It never gets easier.  Creaks and whines come from the inky blackness, a flutter of black on black, the flash of light reflecting oddly from the window to the mirror, illuminating a wayward demon grinning back at Jane.  Slowly her lungs fill with air, her chest tight with anxiety, excitement, and dread.  The first step may be the hardest, but the second isn’t any easier.