It looks likes a storage closet and smells like a garbage can, and I am not even close to exaggerating. I think the wall is broken, or maybe it's the door, because either way, the cracks in the infrastructure allow meagre streaks of light into the room I am unceremoniously trapped in. ‘Trapped’ is the only word that qualifies to be used in the prevailing situation. What else feasibly describes my condition better? For some reason, I could be called disgusted, lost or annoyed, but not particularly worried and frightened, which surprises me as well. Locked up in an unknown, dungeon-like room, unaware of my whereabouts, oblivious to how I came to be here - I must admit, it is terrifying.
The search preceding my current one threw up nothing of much consequence, so presently I am taking another look around, hoping to come across something beneficial. None of my findings yet have been major breakthroughs; all I have found are broken jugs, old and yellowing newspapers and idle pieces of rubble. After a few odd minutes, I stumble upon a map stuck on the wall, above a workbench - no, it is not a typical treasure map or a map of this place with an exit marked on it! That would be remarkably straightforward. No, it maps another place, a rather familiar one. It is the plan of a house. Next to it, taped onto the bricks, is a list of addresses. The address of a house, a school, a music institute and a club.
I am now officially scared. My presence here has been planned for over three months now, judging from the colour of the grime-covered papers. Yes, it is a map of my house. The address of my house, my school, my music class, the club I go to.
Oh my God - what is going on?
The search preceding my current one threw up nothing of much consequence, so presently I am taking another look around, hoping to come across something beneficial. None of my findings yet have been major breakthroughs; all I have found are broken jugs, old and yellowing newspapers and idle pieces of rubble. After a few odd minutes, I stumble upon a map stuck on the wall, above a workbench - no, it is not a typical treasure map or a map of this place with an exit marked on it! That would be remarkably straightforward. No, it maps another place, a rather familiar one. It is the plan of a house. Next to it, taped onto the bricks, is a list of addresses. The address of a house, a school, a music institute and a club.
I am now officially scared. My presence here has been planned for over three months now, judging from the colour of the grime-covered papers. Yes, it is a map of my house. The address of my house, my school, my music class, the club I go to.
Oh my God - what is going on?
