I don't remember anything. Not a thing. Not about me, at least.
I had just woken up in a strange room painted red in its entirety. Not the color of bright red that would strain your eyes, but the subtle dark red that is just barely reminiscent of the color of blood.
There sat before me two peculiar objects of interests. The more interesting one was that of a woman with dark brown hair whose closed eyelids and slightly tilted head lead me to believe that she was asleep. Much the same way that I was asleep before, as the head shaped indentation on the orange couch arm to the left of me indicated. I didn't want to disturb her sleep, so I didn't bother waking her up to ask her questions. I know I wouldn't want some stranger to interrupt my nap for nothing more than a series of annoying inquiries.
The other object was affixed to the wall, above and to the left of the woman's head. It was a brown cuckoo clock, the paint peeling ever so slightly off of the worn door's hinges from having to open and close for what was supposedly a long time. I noticed that, though the hands were turning with sublime efficiency only seen on that of masterly crafted clocks, the numbers meant to represent the time had been replaced with strange symbols I had never seen before in any language.
As I was surveying my surroundings, I had taken notice of the oak door to the right of me. It was the only exit. Since I couldn't make heads or tails of the clock or question the girl, I thought it would be a much better use of my time to explore outside of the room and try to get a bearing of my surroundings.
As I shut the door behind me, it closed with a thick and resounding echo that made it sound as if the Halls were endless. I first noticed how the halls themselves were painted in the same red color as the room I had woken in. I saw ahead of me many turns, and many places I could go, but strangely, there were no other doors. The uncomfortable feeling inside my stomach forced me to turn back as fast as possible just to make sure the door I had exited from was still there.
To my relief, that same oak door stood right behind me. I began wandering the hallways in a vain attempt to make sense of the building. It seemed to defy all laws of architecture. The halls were seemingly endless, but if you kept walking long enough you would eventually reach a turn, which would lead to another endless hallway with the same attribute.
After a long trek through the halls, I reached back around to where I had began. Hoping I had made some progress, and wanting to make sure whether or not it was the same door, I opened it and checked inside. There sat the very same girl and clock as before.
After a long period of just sitting around helpless, I finally decided to try waking the girl up. Even if she didn't have answers, it would be a nice break from all the quiet and loneliness I had been putting up with for uncountable hours. It only took a few good shakes before she opened her eyes.
At first, she said nothing. Staring at me with blank eyes devoid of any emotion. And yet, those same eyes did feel as though they were trying to tell me something, To communicate with me in a way that words lack the passion to achieve. Then she spoke.
“My name is Carly. I am the one who owns this building.” She had a very caring smile on her face as she said this, and her eyes were getting a spark of life in them as well.
“Are there any other rooms?” I asked.
“Plenty,” she answered back, her voice gradually getting sweeter the more she talked, “it's just that you can only see the ones that you know are there.”
“That seems like some kind of magic to me. How is that even possible?” I retorted. Every minute spent learning about this place raised more and more questions about it.
“I can't tell you. You aren't ready yet.” Her cryptic messages had me simultaneously curious and angered.
“I just want some damn answers about where I am! Is that so hard to ask for?!”
“Cool it romeo,” She remarked in an out of character, heavily sarcastic tone of voice. “you'll get your answers if you stay calm and wait.”
I had no choice. I immediately calmed down, and resumed my earlier line of questioning.
“So, If I can't see the doors until I know about them, how do I learn about them?” This seemed like the most logical route to take.
“In every room, there is a hint to the location of the next one. It's something to do with you when you could still remember who you were, and as such it will restore a little bit of your memory with every hint found.
I didn't remember telling her about my amnesia. I was stunned she already knew, and even knew how to cure it. I was growing suspicious of this whole deal already. I figured it wasn't safe to tell her how I was feeling about her, since that may invite some unforeseen danger.
“I have no idea about myself from the past right now, can I get a hint for at least this one?”
“This is the only room I'm required to give you a hint for. The rest will be all you. Your hint is this: The bird that rarely speaks holds the key.”
After that, Carly promptly disappeared into a mist which had come from no where.
The clue she had left me was obvious enough. The key was inside the bird in the cuckoo clock. I didn't think twice about breaking it wide open, and snatched up the key. However, as soon as I touched it, I began to feel light headed, and hit the floor with a loud thump.
What I saw in front of me immediately after passing out was a scene that seemed as if it were being clouded the same way a distant memory is. I could just barely make out my own face, let alone the face of the person in the room with me. We were both inside a padded white room. I was wearing regular clothes while he was in a strange white jacket covered in restraints of some sort. There was yelling.
“I can't lie anymore, john. Your secret will be out and you won't be safe anymore.” This was me talking to him. “I can't keep lying forever. I work within a system that prevents me from doing so, and I won't lose my only job for you.”
I woke up after that. The key had fallen out of my hand, as I was not awake to keep a firm grip. I ran out, panicking. My mind was racing, who was I then? Why was I talking to a man in a restraint jacket? What was I keeping a secret that was so important? Why was the other man in danger? If I didn't keep going, I might have never known.
Outside, sure enough, was another door. This one padded and white, reminiscent of the one I had seen in my vision. I opened the door and inside there was white padding and several dummies in the same jackets as I had seen before. I began to undo the latches on several of them. My train of thought was that since there was no other place for it to hide, the key obviously had to be in one of the jackets.
it was just as I had thought. The key fell right on the floor as soon as I had opened up the top of the third jacket. I went for the key, then remembering the earlier session, got down on the floor first. I didn't want to risk another case of amnesia. Sure enough, as soon as I grabbed it, I was out like a light.
In front of me was myself again, and across from me sat a young blond haired girl. She must have been in her early twenties. She had a light brown straw hat with a red ribbon tied around it adorned atop her head. I was sitting with her on the front deck of what looked like a vanilla colored summer home, with a myriad of shady places available just in the places I could see. In both of our hands sat a cup full of yellow liquid I could only assume was lemonade. When they talked, all I heard was the sound of muffled noise, like when someone tries to talk from under a pillow.
The one thing that really stood out to me was when the girl dropped a locket off of the deck. The person who was presumably myself went out to get it, going through the doors. On his way out, The woman poured something into his drink. I couldn't make out what it was from where my unmovable body had been positioned. The other me came back and handed over the locket.
He took a drink of the lemonade. Before I could see what was happening to him, I had awakened in the room. With nothing else to do, I went outside. Big mistake.