Keep your doors closed and run
Matthew wandered around the room, taking every step with skepticism, devouring him, leaving what he had left to the ravenous society. He tried to have a moment of flashbacks of what happened, but reminiscing about the tragedy was all he could do. Every happy moment that he faces vanishes away from him, never to be mentioned or remembered by Matthew or anyone again. But despite everything, the ambience of the room felt very familiar and amicable. It was as if Matthew was destined to run away from the amicable feeling the entire time. Something about the things he had faced so far didn’t seem real yet they felt so familiar. Something about him doesn’t feel right. Before his thoughts dragged him away, he noticed a letter addressed to him on a mediocre table. He felt his own shadow running away as he picked up the letter and opened it.
Whatever you do, please do not do the following as every action of yours will lead you one step closer to the purgatory that you’ve spent your whole life running away from.
DO NOT open the door
DO NOT invite Jack into your home
DO NOT take the drink from him
DO NOT wake up
DO NOT meet the King and Queen
DO NOT enter a bedroom that has your name on it
DO NOT go back.
I do hope it's not too late.
He felt his heart going cold. He doesn’t remember writing a letter to himself. And he has done everything he told himself not todo. Is this a trap? Or is it a warning? If he didn’t write that letter, then who did? From what Matthew gained after diving into a crevasse of valued and sequestered memories, Jack gave him a drink and somehow he ended up here, in this palace and in this room. All alone. He then remembered what Jack had said before he left; “you are not to leave this room.”
Matthew also remembered the agony yet roguish in Jack’s eyes before he left. With curiosity taking behold of him, he took one risky step forward towards the door. Knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference even if his soul perished away from the world. Knowing that he would regret it.
He opened the door.
But it wasn’t the same expensive corridor he walked in with Jack before. It seemed to be a room full of light but the vacant darkness could still be seen by those who lived in it. Despite the scintillating walls being hopeless and colorless, the truth lies hidden in the shadows of the light. Matthew scrutinized his surroundings and felt the ambience of luxury vanish away. He turned around and realized the door he had just opened had disappeared. That’s when it hit Matthew that he was trapped in a void.
Agitation seemed to choke Matthew as he looked around the tortuous place for a way out. Nothing. His footsteps seemed to be more vociferous than his own thoughts. He continued walking, desperate for answers. Desperate to live a life where he doesn’t have to keep running. Desperate to breathe for the first time. Matthew noticed something from far. As he took a few steps closer, his eyes teemed with sympathy. It was a guy in a medical bed labeled patient no. 397. It seemed as if he couldn’t hear or see Matthew, so he took another step closer. Matthew noticed that the guy was dying right in front of him. Gasping for air, begging for another chance. Another life. The Holter monitor beside the guy started beeping frantically, indicating that his very own heart was betraying him. Matthew cried for help, but his voice just echoed, running away and further into the abyss he was currently in. To have a voice is to change another's future.
After analyzing every detail ever so carefully, for the first time Matthew felt lost and terrified. That person in the medical bed is him. That person who’s heart failed is him. That guy is him.
Tears flooded his vulnerable eyes. He screamed, he yelled, but his voice was silenced. Is this Matthews’ past or his future? Is this real? Is Matthew real?
‘DO NOT enter a room that has your name on it’, said the letter.
Now, Matthew knows why.