My room had four walls.
Frozen.
They're as white as the night sky, without the stars or the moon.
A lightbulb flickers. Is it a message?
I'm trapped within these four walls.
My imagination, however, is larger. It expands beyond the confines of this room, of this world.
The cycle is lost. Every day, hour, minute feels identical. They run like rivers, never stopping, flowing forever. Restless nights in my bed, restless days at my desk, all while my eyes slave away to the beaming screen of my laptop. My eyes are strained. I am tired.
My mind fills this blank room. It fills it with life, although I feel drained. It fills it with colour, although I am monotone. It fills it with words although I am silent.
Silence.
The constant buzzing in your mind, the drum-like beating of your heart. Silence doesn't exist. Yet it does.
The light flickers. What is it telling me?
I try to count sheep to fall asleep, yet my restless eyes stay open. My body lacks the energy to sleep. I raise my hand to count my fingers, and to see if I remember how. My vision goes blurry.
I watch myself fade away.
Are these walls real?
I watch myself vanish.
Are they in my mind?
Questions run around my head, taunting me. They run like the river of time.
How long have I been here?
The more there are, the deeper the river is, the more they grow, the wider it expands, until it is no longer a river, but a lake, until it is no longer a lake but an ocean. A deep black ocean of thoughts. The ocean swallows me whole.
I am drowining.
My hand comes back into view. I find myself in the room again.
Trapped.
