He came to me again last night, the man from the white room, I don’t know if I was sleeping or not, whatever was going on, whatever was happening, it didn’t matter anymore. he smiled, smirked even, then told me more stories, more lies of a life I’ve never lived. He assured me what he told me was true, but venom sprayed from his words, and it infected all.
He laughed when I demanded he leave, to get out of my home, it’s then he pointed out that we weren’t home anymore, we were in the white room again, the mirror was still broken, the table on its side, and, in the corner, crouched down in a ball, hissing and spitting like a wild animal, wasmy shadow self.
We sat there in silence, as the man chewed on some kind of chocolate bar, smiling every time we made eye contact, eventually I asked what was going on, why was I here in this room, this place again?
He said we’re waiting, we can’t get properly started until everyone is here, that’s when the door opened, and he stepped inside, the imposter, the one who stole my life, I launched from my seat at him, and the room shifted again, I was home, gripping nothing. I span around, my eyes searched every crevice, every crack, ripping it apart, and when I finally collapsed onto the ground, exhausted, frustrated, the man appeared onext more, he smiled, and shook his head.
The time was over for games, he said I needed to stop, to listen, and maybe, if I played my cards right, I would prosper. I didn’t get to ask any questions about what he meant, as he was gone after that, leaving me alone in my destruction. The laughing of a little girl pulled me from my stupor, she danced around the lounge room, laughing, singing, calling for me, her daddy to come play, I reached out to her, touching her cold hand as it evaporated into dust before my eyes.
Like I said, I don’t know if it was a dream, or something else, but whatever’s happening to me, it’s far from over.