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I pinched myself, hard. Surely this was a dream.
When I didn’t wake up, I stepped through the doorway into the darkness beyond. My eyes quickly adjusted. I was in an old tunnel. It was cold and damp, and the floor was littered with dead leaves, bits of paper and dirt. For a second, I caught a whiff of salt air, slicing through the dank scent of mold and grime. Wherever this place was, it might be near the coastline.
I kept walking, my feet crunching over the leaves and paper. I seemed to be heading upward at quite a steep angle, which made me wonder if my cell was actually underground. Every so often, a chilling gust of wind would blow through from somewhere, scattering more leaves and debris, twirling them in the dank air. No signs of life in here. No signs of anyone else even knowing about this place.
That was a good sign for me. I quickened my steps, spurred on by the promise of freedom. Then I reached the end of the tunnel, and my heart sank. It was a dead end, just a wall packed with stone and brick.
The wind had to be coming from somewhere, though. Frantically, I turned and dashed down the tunnel in the opposite direction. When I reached the end, I saw it wasn’t bricked off like the other side, but it may as well be. There was a door with a barred window where the breeze was slipping through, but it was heavy and locked. I couldn’t even try to use the bedspring to pick the lock, because it was an electronic lock which required a keycard, just like the one in my room.
I sank to the ground, sobbing into my knees as I drew them up around my chest and rocked back and forth. The society knew all about the tunnel. Of course they did. They probably left the trick wall in my room just to mock me and let me think I had a chance of escape only to rip it away when I realized I was still locked in after all.
I was wrong all those days ago when I thought there would be some way for me to get out of this place. So very wrong and naïve.
There was no way out. No escape.
This was my life now.