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White Room

Sometimes I am floating blissfully on a cloud, oblivious to my surroundings and the harsh truth of reality. Sometimes I am trapped in a surreal nightmare, shards of insanity shattering my mind. The worst time for me is when I just feel broken. Drowning in questions, guilt, pain and sadness unable to breathe. The best time is when I know that there is no infinity for me. Either I escape or I die.

I have been trapped in the same white room for what seems like eternity. Despite my pretence that my freedom will mean my happiness, ominous thoughts flood my mind whenever I think of the outside world. Shadows lurking menacingly in our perfect world. Fragments of truth and justice breaking away with every new advancement. The world made simple and efficient, while life slowly drains away. Despite my reluctance to believe it, I know why I am here. Something bad has happened. Something that seemed small but with catastrophic consequences. It always happens. Nothing is perfect. Nothing is eternal. I know that now.

In my life, everything I do seems like breaking away from the endless chain of thoughts. Whenever I eat the white, tasteless food. Whenever I sleep on the cold hard floor with the thin white blankets wrapped tightly around me. Whenever I pace around the room trying find any means of escape instead of just being left to my thoughts.

I always knew the world outside was crumbling. The very structure of the gorgeous realm we lived in was slowly falling into the chasm of destruction. People were rebelling against the governments twisted regime, and it was only a matter of time before a significant change took place. Somehow my memories of that time are distorted, as though all the gruesome images of fights and rebellions have been erased from the picture, leaving only the perfect community behind, and some missing pieces.

Suddenly, my head throbs painfully and horrors surge into my mind. A deadly sickness. A foreign invasion. An unknown force. A foul stench lingers in the air as the ground lurches sickeningly and my mind slowly becomes foggy. I lose my balance and collapse against the white walls. Retching and coughing, my mind seems to process smoke enveloping me and burning my face. I try to reach for something to steady myself but my hands grasp at thin air. I pinch myself and try to stay focused by the strange wisps of smoke are affecting my mind. As my head makes harsh contact with the floor, time seems to stop. The world goes black.

Black… my thoughts are able to process now, but my eyes are still closed. Black. The absence of colour. Even when I sleep my eyes are forced to open the second I wake up. I haven’t known the absence of light for as long as I can remember. I know my head is still painful, but I am so relieved I can not feel anything. Black.

Slowly, the door opens. My mind can’t register the two creatures that step through it. I am so confused by what I see I can’t think about what this means. The door that has remained locked for as long as I have been here is now open. I am seeing other living beings. Are they like me? Is that how I look too? No… My vision comes back into focus, but the creatures are still like phantoms floating in my consciousness. They are green, with what looks like eyes, but they are flitting back and forth almost mechanically. A silver robotic limb holding a screen proves my theories right. One speaks to the other, in an unfamiliar language, but as I wonder what they are saying, the screen switches round so it is facing me, and begins to translate. The letters flick on and off and it is hard to read, but soon the words settle into position. A robotic voice speaks in my language.

“Here is the first official test subject for the classified human experimentation scheme.”

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