“Help me.”

Her words tickled my ears like a whisper in the wind. Faint and distant, I had no way of determining the sincerity in her plea.

“Where am I?”

Where is she? Where am I? This place is so dark—so lonesome. I feel myself being drawn to her. I must find her.

“Please, come to me.”

She’s closer now. If I follow the sound of her voice I can get to her. Her words can guide me through the darkness like the welcoming beam of a lighthouse.

“Over here.”

A flash and everything is illuminated. I’m standing in a hallway. There are no doors lining the bland cantaloupe rind colored walls. I’m standing on a lime green rug which stretches on with no end in sight. I turn around only to face a solid wall. Wherever I had entered from is now gone. How is this possible?

“You’re so close.”

I turn and I know she’s there—just out of sight at the end of the hall. I must run to her before she leaves. But the rug—the walls—they just keeping stretching on and on. No matter how fast I run there is no end in sight. The walls pass by me with rapid succession, but I make no forward progress. It’s as if I’m a hamster on a wheel.

“Don’t you want me?”

A tinge of fear stabs my chest. I can’t breathe and my legs are on fire. I must stop running. But if I lose her—

“You’ll never see me again.”

Her words are tainted with resentment. I did my best but I couldn’t get to her in time. No matter how fast I ran I couldn’t catch up to her. Why couldn’t I get to her?

The lights go off and I’m returned to the darkness. This time she isn’t there to guide me into the light. I am alone.

Published by Caleb James

Caleb is a freelance writer, aspiring novelist, and an avid reader. He is the creator of DPW and enjoys editing and helping other writers with their work. When he's not writing and sipping fine whiskey he can be found at the gym, hiking in the woods, or spending time with crazy Siberian husky Nitro. View all posts by Caleb James