White

I'm in a room. It's completely white. White walls, white table cloth, white table, white grapes, and white wine. A man's back is to me. All I can see is his golden hair. He is wearing white pants, white shoes, white gloves, a short sleeved white t-shirt and a white apron. He is preparing something while I am strapped down to the table, bound with white twine.

The clock on the wall ticks infrequently like a dying heartbeat that is consistently being revived. A drop of blood drips from the white tile above me and lands directly on my forehead. I open my mouth to scream but my voice is gone.

The man with the golden hair turns his body around but his head stays in place as if breaking his own neck. The white gloves run themselves across my body and down my legs until they stop at my feet.

He removes my shoes, then my pants, then my underwear. Only my t-shirt remains. A white blindfold is placed over my eyes. When it is removed, he is gone and I am free but the white is gone. The room is now blood red with dark undertones.

My clothes are no where to be found. I try and stand, but my legs give out and I am useless. I crawl across the floor looking for a way out but the room is one dimensional . There is no way out of this box.

All at once the room is shifted and I am catapulted toward the ceiling. All the fixtures hang upside down and a record is placed on a turn table. The needles screeches across the vinyl until the same horrific sound repeats over again.

High above me is a window that wasn't there before, but it's too high to reach. lf the room were to switch again, I'd easily reach it but there is no rest for the wicked.

Peering through the window is a bloodshot eye. Its gaze is unlike anything. It peruses the room at lightning speed, occasionally fluttering like a broken bird.

All at once the room shifts me closer to the window, but now that I know what waits for me on the other side I'm afraid. I fight this gravitational pull but I'm eventually shaken like a coin in a shoebox until I land on top of the window. The glass begins to spiderweb under my feet while shards cut my bare feet. The cold surface gives out. I plunge out the window into a dream space where the eye engulfs my essence, chews it up and altogether I no longer exist.