Little White Mice

The first thing she saw was the hole in the wall. Why was her head pounding?

She didn’t remember doing this. But the punctured wall and the scars on her fist say she did. She really could not remember. In fact, she didn’t remember much of what happened the night before.

Her usual breakfast slop wasn’t beside her this morning. Usually a metal tray sloshed with some cold, undefinable paste would be waiting beside her before she even opened her eyes. It felt odd it wasn’t there; they never missed a schedule. Were they punishing her? And for what? She was getting a headache just trying to figure everything out.

She shuffled down, trying to get to the other side of the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Her stomach started to growl in protest. She sure could use some of that slop right about now.

She hated this side of the room. The bulb had burnt out a long time ago and none of them had bothered to replace it. It didn’t make sense since she was here as punishment anyway. Let her suffer, they must’ve told themselves. She hated the dark so much.

Her heart was pounding. Something wasn’t right. She felt her way through the dark, uncertain of what she would find. Logically, there shouldn’t find anything here. She had a barren cell, devoid of any entrances and passageways except for those kept secret by her captors. Only they knew the way in and only the could find their way out.

She held her breath. Her arms were stretched out before her, feeling their way in the darkness. There was nothing but air.

Wet. She felt something wet and thick at her feet. She tried to keep her footing, but the dark and her bare now slippery feet caused her to lose her balance. The floor smelled like fresh meat.

Her hand touched something that felt too frighteningly human. She had no intention of finding out. She shuffled quickly to her feet.

Get out of the dark, get out of the dark, she said to herself. She could feel something stirring. It didn’t feel good. It wasn’t safe. For once, she wished her captors would come for her.

She flung her arms, fearfully. Desperately. Maniacally. She thought she scratched something. She felt blood underneath her fingernails.

One more step and she would be back in the light. She stumbled onto the hard floor, her back never so grateful for the cold cement. It took more than a minute for her heart to stop racing. Her breaths were deep and fast.

Slowly, she got to her feet. Her movements, unsteady and far from graceful. She pushed her body against the wall for balance. She was out of the dark at last.

Something wasn’t right though. A fierce chill went down her spine. She looked up at the blackness before her.

Another pair of eyes stared back at her. She could see nothing else. Just those eyes, piercing, turning her body as cold as the floor she’d picked herself up from. She scrambled frantically to get away.

In her panic, she lost her footing. Arms flailing, she grasped at the first thing within reach. The latch was flimsy and broke off the wall in an instant. She slipped and slammed her head against the wall. The everything went black.

The first thing she saw was the hole in the wall. Why was her head pounding…