The familiar feel of panic sets in, and I'm too scared to get to my feet. Instead my hands scrabble at the ground, which feels smooth and unnatural.
I curl up still, and it's not long before the tears come. I let myself cry as loudly as I can, after all, it's not like they can hear me. I keep my head in my hands, and now I can't see. Not that it makes a difference. There is no light.
Am I dead? I can't be. Nothing happened to me. I sit up, reaching at the air, hoping to find a wall. I can't for a long time. I finally stand, but am still crouched. I wander, my legs shaky, though the darkness. Then finally, my finger tip brushes something. I press my hand to it. The same feeling as the floor. I don't take my hand off, and walk to my right, waiting to see what appears. I find a corner. I'm in a room, but I don't know how large it is or if it has a way out. I'm reminded of the stone room, which must have been three days ago now, but feels like an eternity.
I eventually discover the room is a perfect square, but no doors at all. I run my hand over every inch, but there's no change anywhere.
Again I crouch and feel the floor for any kind of escape there, but there is none. The panic returns. I sit and lean against the wall, trying to calm myself. I can't, not this time.
I'm tall, but I can't reach the ceiling. I don't even know if it exists. I reach as high as I can. And cover the room this way. It's not big, I'm sure of that, but feels like its infinitely large in the darkness. I jump up, and there's a ceiling. So it is there.
I still doubt there's a way out.