I opened the door and sneaked in.
It was nothing like I’d imagined it to be.
Reality usually isn’t.
But this isn’t real, is it?
Real. I laughed at the idea of ‘real’.
I looked ahead.
Kind of like a maze. Unending, infinite, ever changing.
Should I go in?
There’s always the option of going back.
Easy and familiar.
I strengthened my mind.
I walked on.
There were walls that rose to three feet on either side. Creepers on the wall to the left, ever growing. Clocks on the wall to the right, stopped at 3 am. The floor was made of glass. Letters grew from down, pressing against the glass barrier. My brain struggled, but this time, my feet decided things.
I walked on.
Right, left, left, left, left, right, straight, left, right, right.
My head spun.
The legs stopped. Sudden but purposeful.
I looked up. It was a giant book.
Leather bound, brown, black strap, black stud.
I climbed on to the creepers, lunged at the strap, twisted the stud with one hand and swung down on it.
I landed on the ground and looked up.
The book was blank.
Words from underneath pushed against the glass, viciously.
The book shook.
And lost control.
I woke up, breaking into sweat.
Head throbbed, legs ached, hands shivered.
Looking around, I was on the floor, spread on my back.
My diary lay open.
To the right, the floor under my bed was dark.
I reached out and felt the underside.
Found a doorknob.