The white room

the white room
(772 words)

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Margret Winster was a remarkable person, in her humble opinion. . She was friends with many, and enemy to none. She was always had someone to talk to. That's what she really liked. Just sitting down and talking, about what she liked, what she didn't like. What she liked and what she didn't. That was how most of the conversations went. Round and around, over and over until she got so sick of hearing about herself and what she liked and  disliked that she got so tired she just fell asleep. The funny thing was, that when she slept, she never dreamed. Not in her entire life had she had a dream, not when she was little, not a dream like on the motivational posters she had seen, not even a day dream. She had convinced herself she had no dreams and no imagination.
That thought scared her. The thought of having no original thoughts, or worse, not having any thoughts at all. So she decided to do something about it. Ever day she would slip on her snuggest coat, as she only owned snug clothing, and went for a walk, to clear her head, and hopefully draw out her imagination. It was never too cold, and never too warm. It was always a still and quiet road that she walked on. It seemed not to go through any town, any field. Not even a forest. It was a cobblestone road, walking through a wide open space, filled with white. Margret would sometimes scuff her shoes along the road just to see a color other than white and brown. The scuffs would seem to vanish amongst the cracks in the road.
The funny thing about these walks is that no matter how long they she walked, they always seemed to stop in the same place. Margret called it the 'walkers wall' because the road just stopped. All it was, was white.  She would come to eye level with this 'wall'. She had never dared touch it, because she had never had reason to. Until today.
Margret was walking. Her arms crossed over her chest as though giving herself a hug, stretching the sleeves of her sweater, that, until today, she had never realized was white as well. But not the same clean shiny white as the 'wall' and the space that surrounded the road on which she walked. No, this was more of a dull, broken white, with shiny buckles all around it. As though it was the only real thing there.
Finally she found it. The wall. She tried to reach out and touch it, but her hands were trapped in her sweater. Confused, Margret pulled harder and harder, thrashing about where she stood. Scared, frustrated and confined, she kicked at the wall in desperation, not knowing how that would help her. Her foot bounced back without a sound. Panting, Margret sunk to her knees. And a strange thought occurred to her. The cobblestones didn't hurt. They were almost, well they were, soft. And fluffy. Margret was amazed and elated, because first of all, she had had her first independent thought, and second, she had another idea that was all her own. She unsteadily brought herself back to her feet, wobbling on the now cloud soft stones. She then lightly knocked her head on the wall. Yes, it was the same softness as the road! She giggled in excitement. Then had another thought, they were coming easier now. Cautiously, she pushed her back up against the wall, and edged to the edge of the road, peering over the edge into more nothingness. And then, she jumped.
She fell for a short time. When she landed, she landed on her back. She was looking straight up. At a florescent light. That seemed odd to her, seeing as there was never a bright light like that on the road she used to walk. She turned her head to the right, seeing a large steel door. Walls covered in bright white padding. And along the edge of the wall..were scuff marks.
Margret screamed, and screamed. Because for the first time in her life, she remembered where she was and why she was there. It was a blur, a blur of a knife, a little girl. Someone was screaming, Margret was only half aware that it was her.
As she screamed the large steel door opened,two men in white coats seemed to charge into the room, one held a long needle. A sharp pain in her neck, her eyes were closing. She was falling asleep.
Maybe this time she would have a wonderful dream. 
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-Jessica Baker-