By Gianna Liantonio
I wake up, my vision blurry, adjusting to the light.
Except there is no light.
I blink a few times and sit up, looking around.
It’s a dark room with only a little bit of light coming from a small window. I look up and see it, out of reach towards the ceiling where no one could possibly see out of it. I look around the room some more and notice it is bare with only the metal hard bed I’m sitting on.
The walls are a dark gray or they could be white; it’s hard to tell. The ceiling is cracked in some places; one specific one spider webbing from the corner and going up. I notice the only thing on the bed is one pillow with no case and it’s very flat along with a very thin blanket that might as well be a sheet of sandpaper because of how rough it is.
I stand up slowly and notice my legs are wobbly and my head feels heavy; the room is spinning slightly.
I must have gotten knocked out with something I thought.
I don’t remember anything before this; how I got here and where here is exactly. When I try to remember, it feels like there’s an actual wall blocking what I need to know on the other side.
I look around the room for any clues on where I am. There is nothing on the floor or the walls beside a bed and a window. I then notice one door made of steel that blends into the wall. If there wasn’t a doorknob, you’d think it was just part of the wall. I go up to it and turn the knob.
It’s locked. I didn’t expect it to be that easy, but I thought I’d try anyway. I sigh, running my hands through my hair, trying to figure out what to do.
I walk around the room, looking for anything I might have missed. I look closer to the walls to see if there are any symbols or literally anything that would help me. I check every tile, every part of the wall for any secret compartments or anything. I’ve seen in movies and shows where they’re investigating a crime scene and they start tapping the wall to see if it’s hollow.
I try that, tapping on every part of the wall possible, trying to see if that’s the case here.
How I’d get into the wall is a different story. T.V. can only teach you so much. I don’t feel anything out of place. Granted, I’m no expert so I could definitely be feeling something and not knowing it.
I sigh and take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind and think about what I could do.
All of a sudden, I hear something—footsteps outside the door. I run to the door, cautiously stepping back a few feet in case whoever’s out there opens the door.
Two shadows resembling the person’s feet stand outside the door. I just watch, waiting for what this person is going to do. Then, the shadows disappear, and I see a thin white sheet of paper slide through from the bottom of the door. I hear their footsteps gradually getting quieter and I run to the paper picking it up. I turn it over and see words written on it in black ink.
WELCOME TO THE GAME
I feel my eyes widen as I read and re-read the words. The game? What game? I flip it over and try to see if there are any hidden messages or anything on the paper, but those words are the only thing on there. So, this is someone’s sick form of entertainment. I wish I remembered how I got here.
I’m usually really careful and try not to get close to anyone suspicious. I then hear a lock turning and the squeaks of the door hinges as the door opens slowly. I think I’m imagining it at first, until I feel blinding lights shine through the crack of the door.
I drop the paper and run, opening it more. I see a hallway with other doors on the sides similar to mine. I walk out cautiously, but don’t see anyone out here. How could they have run away that fast? I just start running, determined to find a way out of whatever this is. I didn’t sign up for whatever this game is.
I run and run, but it feels like I’m getting nowhere. Each hallway looks identical. It’s like I’m stuck in some type of labyrinth.
I slow down to catch my breath while looking around for any clues on how to get out of here. I continue running and I come up to a dead end. I start to turn around when I see a bunch of random numbers next to each other. I kneel down reading them and I realize it must be some type of code. I try to scan the numbers hoping to remember them when I start to hear footsteps. I start running, saying the numbers over and over in my head.
5514 5514 5514
I make it to another dead end and I see a wall with big gigantic letters in white paint that says: WRONG WAY
I turn and run down another way and it’s another dead end. Panting, I lean against the wall and look around, wiping my forehead feeling sweat starting to drip down. As I put my hand down, I notice something on the palm of my hand. I look and my breath hitches as I see four numbers in black marker.
5514
How? How are the numbers there? How did I not notice them before?
There’s no way unless—I’ve done this before.
I start to hear footsteps get closer and closer until everything goes dark.
My eyes open and they take time to adjust to the barely lit room with just a bed and a window.
I look down at my hand with the code.
This time, I know what to do.
“This piece was written without the aid of studio-provided materials while
WGA and SAG-AFTRA are on strike. These unions represent our
writers, actors, and artists across TV and movies in their
fight for a fair and equitable contract. SAG-AFTRA asks those who
cover shows and films to refrain from promoting stricken content at this time.
