I can feel it, cold rain drops, falling heavy onto my skin. It is so eerie the emotional state that I am in right now. Everything around me is gloomy, drowning in a felling of sadness and despair.
It does not matter how much I run, all I can see is darkened, tight corridors which lead form one room to another. Each room is empty, with glassy floors, wrapped up in darkness. There is no ceiling to these rooms. Rain is falling without stopping, becoming colder as I advance through the corridors.
I am now already tired and scared; I need to find something, but what? What is so important for me to run after in this horrid weather? I cannot see anything clear, only walls around me, and rain above me.
The sound of the big rain drops, falling on the glassy surface of each room, makes my head hurt. It’s a rhythmic sound, blending with the noise that my bare feet are making. Running through the corridors with unsure steps, trying to control the tremble of my whole body, as not to fall before I reach my destination, I sometime search the walls of the corridors for something to hold on to.
It is getting harder to breath now, as my running pace slows down, the feeling of panic rises through me. I cannot find it, but it must be here.
I see a door; a warm air flows from within. And I can see a welcoming ray of light coming from under the door. I grab the handle and while turning the door knob, I slowly push it. But it will not open. It will not move an inch, regardless of the strength used.
I know this is what I am looking for, but why won’t it open? Am I missing something? A key! That must be it. At least now I know what I am looking for. I just need to find a key. Realizing this, I feel a lot lighter and happier. I must search for the key, and I will find it, no matter what it takes.
While thinking like that, I start running again. But the rain is still cold, and the corridors are never-ending. Still no sign of the key.
The wet clothes are weighting me down. It takes all my will, just to keep on going. My muscles are hurting, as I use them even more as time passes, trying to keep going, without thinking about the tiredness I am feeling. I am focusing all my attention into finding any trace of the key.
I can see light, coming from one of the rooms with the open ceiling. Maybe it is the key. I stop for a moment to rest. Then I use the little energy I have left to head into the direction of the light. But the more I struggle to advance, the dimmer the light appears. Then questions and doubts start rising into my mind:
Am I going the right way? Is there really a key to that door, or am I looking for it in vain? Why is the light getting fainter by the minute? Maybe it is a fire, and the rain is extinguishing it. I should hurry.
I finally arrive in the room, and as I look around me, trying to discern through the darkness, where the light had come from, I see another door.
Even though the room is darkened and the rain obscures the little visibility I have, I can see that the door is different from the last one. It is upholstered with dark-red silk and the casing is silver. When I try to open the door, I feel that the doorknob is warming up, as I keep my cold hand on it.
This must be where the key is. I thought. As I slowly push the door, the door swings aside, permitting entry. I see a flicker of light which quickly dies off, in the middle of the room. Then a deep darkness envelops me and the door behind me closes with a loud noise.
As I try to figure out where I am, I am hesitantly touching the walls with my hands, groping after a familiar object. Maybe the key is hidden here, in all the darkness. My hands find a thread with a little knot at the end. This must be the light for the room. I think, while I pull it firmly.
Suddenly, the floor disappears, and I begin to fall. My voice will not come out, I cannot even scream. I am petrified with fear.
Ah, I must be outside, because as I fall, I feel yet again, the cold rain falling heavily on me. It makes all my pores scream of pain. Such a sharp pain, that it makes me wish I was dead and unfeeling.
The fall is never-ending, where is the ground? How much more time does it take to reach death. As these thoughts rush through my head, I hear a stuffed sound, coming from above me. Someone is calling for me. But who is it? Can’t they save me? Although I struggle to free myself from the terror, I can’t reply to the voice calling for me.
And so I remain motionless, as I am falling deeper and deeper into darkness and despair, without being able to mutter one single word for help. Since whatever I try to do is worthless, I close my eyes, waiting for death, while my body still shivers slightly as cold rain drops whip through my body.
“Finally you’re awake!” Somebody said with a worried tone of voice. “I thought I have to take you to the hospital.”
As I open my eyes, I see a shadow leaning over me. I can feel this person’s presence even more when she puts a cold compress on my forehead. It’s my mother.
“It’s time to take your medicine.”
As I hear her speak, I slowly realize.
“It was all a dream!” I mumble to myself with a smile of satisfaction at the warm bed, and the caring hand that strokes my hair, before falling unconscious yet again, under the influence of the fever.