Turn Back Time

She paces the linoleum floor, cautiously avoiding every crack.

The silence of the hall, filled to the brim with people, is deafening, the click-click of the woman’s shoes the only audible sound.

She hears a scream, somewhere seemingly distant, but in reality, far too close.

She stops pacing, and sits, head in her hands. The visceral screaming doesn’t stop.

When at last the wretched sound subsides, the woman looks up, relief in her eyes.

That is, until she sees that every set of eyes in the room is on her, staring intently. The woman looks around anxiously, as if trying to fathom why she is being watched.

The screaming begins again, louder and more intense than the first. This time, when the woman holds her head, still standing, a figure dressed only in white runs to her, and whisks her away, the screaming continuing the whole way down the hall.

The door shuts behind the figure, and the screaming becomes muffled, almost strangled, until it abruptly stops.

The hall is silent for several moments, the people lining the halls managing to do little more than glance from one face to another, none brave enough to question the scene that had played out.

When the door finally opens again, a young girl walks out, and very quickly heads for the exit door, skipping and smiling all the way.