Reading kaizley's journal

The lights flicker as she walks through the stuffy hall. The air is so thin, she can hardly breathe. “Never mind that,” she thinks as she guides herself to the room that was made for her. Number 57. The hall is long and is lined with hundreds of doors.

It’s like being in a horror movie. The only way to run is forward, and even if you do that, you will eventually reach the end and get caught. The carpet runner on the floor stops running, but the girl keeps moving. The numbers carved into the door are hardly visible in the dullish light. “Never mind that,” she thinks. She will find her room. “It’s near the end… or was that the other way?” There are no windows along this airless hall and even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway.

Like in a horror movie, nobody could see what was going on behind, or outside closed doors. The air became thinner towards the end of the long hall. The lights became darker. A non-existent breeze blew through her hair and rattled her bones. But it didn’t faze her. She was determined to find the room. She stood still for a moment, trying to see the number carved on the door in front of her. She saw no number, but she heard sounds.

She heard sounds of pleasure, exhausted pleasure. Intrigued she listened for a moment. Pressing her ear against the door. Breaching much wanted privacy. Nonetheless she stayed. She stayed for what seemed like hours, until the pleasure stopped. She stood and listened to the quiet shuffling and quiet footsteps. Someone was coming towards the door.

The girl sprinted down one direction of the hall. To her great fortune, the person who came out of the room started to walk in the other direction. They were wearing nothing but a white sheet wrapped around them like a toga. The girl began to follow the toga lady, still searching for her room. She came to the room where the sounds had come from, and noticed that now it was silent, so she kept moving. The toga lady disappeared behind another door. Once again the girl was left alone to wonder the halls. Number 57 was the number she was looking for. She reached the room to which the toga person had entered and felt the carving on the door.

Number 57 she guessed and knocked softly. The lady previously in the toga answered. Now they were wearing a nice, clean set of pyjamas.

“Where have you been?” The toga lady asked.
“Looking for you.” The girl answered as she entered the nicely lit room. The toga lady stood in the doorway for a moment looking a little worried.
“Mum” The girl said
“Yes” The toga lady whispered as she closed the door.
“Was it fun?”

Once again I have a little trouble with my past/present tense. Sorry about that.

"I'm free to say whatever I, whatever I like if it's wrong or right, it's alright."

This post was edited by kaizley on Aug 19, 2004.