The Hallway

Left turn. Left turn. Left turn. Left turn. I should be back where I started.

But these halls won’t let me leave.

I didn’t do anything to deserve this either. No Ouija boards, no chanting in a bathroom, no ignoring trespassing signs, nothing. I've never messed with supernatural things…well until right now. The room or halls or whatever this place is looks like a normal house, light tan walls, white trim, there’s domed lights on the ceiling with dim yellow bulbs that makes my skin look sickly. The path is obscured after only a few meters as a new turn begins. Most importantly there’s the doors, plain and white, all locked. There shouldn’t be this many. Not this close together. No sound comes from behind them and there’s no gap from the floor.

I’m running again, something is here too I can tell. The air is too stale, the darkness too oppressive, the walls too claustrophobic, something unnatural must have created this place. Nothing else can explain it. But this doesn’t last long, I have to catch my breath. Maybe I should take more care to check every lock, but how can they be if there’s no place for a key? Maybe this is just a dream, and the part about waking up was part of it. The last thing I remember…chores I guess. Laundry, breakfast, journal, the stuff I do every morning. I have to keep moving. Then fold pants, wash mug, check mail, just like any other day. My favorite shirt was dirty so I went with a sweater. If it’s a ghost wouldn't it be invisible? Its rotten, floating body could be inches away and I’d have no idea. The taste of cranberry juice, dry and tart, is still lingering. Walking might be better, I wouldn't want to waste my energy for no reason. In through the nose, out of the mouth. No luck, this one is locked too.

What if I’m still here because I’ve been going in the wrong direction. If I were to just turn around I’d immediately find myself back in my home. I’ve been passed out in my pantry this whole time and all I have to do to wake up is turn around. A strong sense of dread and numbness in my legs washes over me and I decide I won’t do that. I keep moving forward.

It hasn't gotten any easier either. After going through this so many times I still expect there to be something hiding in the darkness. One of these doors is bound to open up and swallow me whole. It should just do it already, I’m tired of wandering. I mean what's so scary about a normal house anyway? Millions of people have beige paint and warm lights and nothing bad has ever happened to them. Everybody else knows what’s right for them. It’s easier to read computer screens without windows anyway, that pesky daylight. I should be doing my paperwork right now. Got to find my computer first though. It would tell the time too. If days have passed I’ll be behind on my emails. What will I tell my boss? What will I tell him? Why would I need to do that?

I can’t find it anywhere, I’ve looked down the hall, and down the hall, and down the hall, but it just isn't here. Well, there’s got to be somewhere I suppose. There’s an app that helps you find lost things like that. I’ll download it so this doesn't happen again. I've got other apps too, some of them are social so you can talk to your friends. I follow Jessica, my first grade English teacher, she has a 3 year-old terrier named Jasper and her boyfriend Eric is an event planner for a popular band and is away in Kingston for work until June 29th. Three times a week she visits the local bakery called The Cookie Corner and gets a large caramel latte with a shot of hazelnut syrup and chocolate-chip cupcakes with chocolate frosting. She waits to get home to start eating because the lighting there is better for taking pictures. They have lots of flavors available but she always gets chocolate-chip because it reminds her of the cookies her grandmother would make. Her grandmother Ms. Bradshaw's highest level of education is 8th grade and afterwards she worked as a secretary for Right City Bank from 1962 to…

Left turns are pretty reliable, you always know where to go because you can hold up your hands and make an L shape with your thumb and index finger. Left starts with L so it’s an easy way to remember what to do in case you get lost: just follow the signs. They point me in the right direction. They’ll point you in the right direction. Did you know millionaires and CEOs and important people eat the same thing, sleep at the same time, and wear the same thing every day? That way they can focus on getting more work done or making more money. My job is to keep walking forward and I do it with Dedication, Confidence, Reliability, and Teamwork. There isn't anything else for me to do. The doors go by in a blur, the doorknobs stick out just to get in my way and slow me down. If I was in charge I would have had them removed long ago. No distractions adds efficiency, without which I could go so much further.

Through the Left I can't help but notice the Right. It's embarrassing really, there’s something so unsightly about it. My thumb is on the wrong side, my fingers make all the wrong shapes, my right foot stumbles more often. Things like eyes and ears, and the nose are supposed to be symmetrical but I can tell something is off about the other side. Studying them with my fingers makes it so the imperfections can't hide. If I had scissors and thread maybe I could… I can’t let anyone see me like this. In the safety of these walls there is nothing to worry about. This is my home, you can be yourself in your own home right? If it’s just me I can keep going Left, even with my unfortunate Right. Yes I’ll do just that. Left turn.