We don't stop at the door I'm usually brought to. He keeps pulling me down the hallway and turns right, taking me down a different, darker, smaller hallway.
"Where are we going?" I demand. "Where's Peter?" I try to twist from him again, but he is too strong. "Where are we going?" I shout, desperate now. His only response is a tighter grip on my wrists, and I cry out in pain. I can't fight anymore.
I let him take me down the hallway, illuminated only by flickering lights overhead. We stop outside a door that's locked with a heavy metal bar across the front. I look up at the masked monster and its eyes, cold and brown and unyielding, don't cross mine for even a moment. He opens the door and roughly shoves me through it and I collapse on the floor inside of a dark, square room. Before it shuts the door I see that there is nothing in here with me other than a black camera in the corner of the ceiling. It shuts the door and I'm enclosed by the darkness.
I can't breathe. This kind of darkness is different than the darkness that cloaks me in my room; this darkness suffocates me. I slide backward until my back reaches a wall and I pull my knees up to my chest. I hug them and bury my face in my arms, not crying, because that seems pointless now, but I pretend that the darkness I'm stuck in is of my own creation. If I close my eyes tight enough, I can imagine that I'm back in my room. I can see the glow of light from the crack under the door, and the thin blanket from my bed rests on my shoulders. In my own darkness, I can create my own escape.