Prometheus

The Waiting Room

    Where am I? What happened to my Frosted Flakes? Looking around, I find myself in some sort of waiting room. The kind you sit in when you visit the dentist, but not the fancy kind with toys just magazines, but even then are not any magazines. Plain and pristine.

When did I leave my seat? I would never leave before I finished my bowl of Frosted Flakes. Where are my parents? We were just sitting together eating breakfast before school started I don't know what happens. I should probably go find them.

Before I left the unusually nice comfy chair I found a piece of paper addressed to me

        Dear Theodore Day Mischief,

            There are some things you should know about this place.

                  1. Fire is a gift.

                  2. The shadows can consume the fire.

                  3. Become God or escape.

             P.S. A simple death is a mercy.

    Nothing else was written on the paper just that ominous and cryptic letter. Although what I found underneath the small table next to the comfy chair was a knife. A pocket knife. The kind I have seen my friends use to crave on trees. My mom and dad always told me never to run with scissors in the fear I would hurt myself, if they ever saw me holding a knife in my possession I would be running in fear from them. They would tell me to find somewhere safe. But the word safe is such a relative term. Did they mean that I found shelter? An adult? Or find something to protect me? By that logic, I am 'safe' because I have this knife, with me to get rid of it would make them 'unsafe' and is the opposite of what they would want. I think they would be rather proud of me for taking such initiative. Plus thinking it was rather unfair of my mom to tell me that I couldn't have some type of protection when I could see a canister of mace in her purse whenever I browsed her inventory for a quick snack. Why couldn't I have a weapon to defend myself?

Well, I couldn't prolong this any longer. It was fairly obvious, no one was coming to get me, and this place didn't seem to have any food, so I should leave now. I folded that piece of paper and slipped it into my left-hand pocket then I took the knife and put it in my right-hand pocket. That's the great thing about being 10 years old boy, every piece of clothing we own, besides the obvious, has pockets. Glorious pockets. Before leaving I did a quick sweep of my own inventory: 2 granola bars, a box of tic tacs, a couple of marbles, and a bag of poppers from the 4th of July. My big cousin Bau thought it was an okay idea to give me and every of our young kid relatives some very powerful fireworks, which lead to a picnic blanket catching on fire. The cause of it, a single popper.

The next thing I know, the door leads to a wide-open area filled with ten-foot columns evenly spaced between one another. If you were not careful you could easily get lost. I turn around to reach for the door handle, out of fear, and would not you know the door had disappeared along with the room. I guess there is no turning back.