A loud crunching noise brought Femie's mind back to the present. She had just stepped on a cockroach, and Femie watched as its insides began to ooze from its crushed shell, just as the whipped cream overflows from a chocolate éclair.
Femie shook her head, as her stomach began to growl. She ignored this as she unlocked the new door. She had to keep pulling her mind's eye away from the mirror; she had to focus if she wanted her freedom. Her hand closed over the handle of the door and she pulled it open.
For the first time in weeks, she smiled.
The room was filled with trees, and hanging from the branches were many green pythons. They raised their head to stare at the new light, their tongues tasting the air. Their black eyes glinted in the brightness; Femie always thought that they had the kindest eyes.
Her mind was suddenly torn back to remember her oldest friend, Amalia, who had owned the most beautiful Royal Python. Femie began to feel sick again as she wondered who was taking care of the snake now that Amalia was gone. The initial smile had faded and had been replaced with guilt and horror as she looked into the room of pythons and thought about her friend. The friend for whose murder Femie was condemned.
Femie thought of the scene in which she had found herself all those years ago. Hr best friend's body was sprawled out across the floor, covered in the ruby red of her own blood. Her neck had almost been severed and the room itself was dark, nearly glowing with the deep red reflection of the late afternoon light. Amalia was only wearing a white t-shirt, and this was forever stained with the rose-coloured liquid that continued to seep from the open wound.
She felt the urge to vomit, but had to hold it back. Instead, she took a gulp of her limited water supply, then replaced the bottle into her backpack.
The pythons seemed entirely uninterested in Femie, and so she closed the door slowly, so as not to disturb them.