I keep reaching and jumping, and it seems ridiculous and nothing changes. I lose count of how many times I blink and rub my eyes to see if the darkness is gone. The tears on my face have tried. My head hurts, but I have to survive with it.
But one time, I leap up and my hand touches something. Again I feel hope, but nothing seems to happen. I find myself going back to the walls. Still, there is nothing. But as I examine the floor, I feel a slightly raised square. From just brushing it, it moves aside. In its place, a square hole, big enough for me to fit in. I soon realise I have no idea what's at the bottom, so I don't dare climb down. An idea strikes. I'm wearing some shoes found in the comparatively safe house I was in earlier, and unfasten one and drop it down. I hear a small sound of it falling onto something worryingly solid. It doesn't seem far, however, and what's the worst that can happen, anyway?
I'm not brave. Never have been, never will be. But this may just be necessary. I crawl backwards on my front and lower legs into the empty space. I stop breathing, crinkle my eyes shut and completely let go.
I fall for a moment to quick to register, and when I hit the ground, it really hurts. My stomach falls on my shoe, one arm is squashed under me and my knees are scraped across the ground.
I try to recover but then there's light.
It's madly disorienting and I can't see anything for ten seconds or so. When I do, I'm in a room of the same size as the one before, and the walls are white. However, it's free of any kind of light bulbs, so the light must be from behind the walls.
And this time, there's nothing from which I can escape from.