There is room that isn't a room. It has no walls, no ceiling and no floor. It isn't a white room but rather a bright room. You may move freely within the room, in any direction you please. But there will always be a column in the distance. No matter how far or how fast you go you cannot escape it. The moment you decide to approach it will be right in front of you. The column is made of pure light. You cannot see through it. You cannot touch it for it is always out of reach. But there is a door on the column. The door does not belong in the room. You touch the door, the moment you do chains meld out from the door. They are black and cracked, stretching across the door into the column. There are eleven chains. As you place your hand upon one of them it shatters and the door heaves outward. It does not open but you feel a foreboding, its as if you already know whats behind the door and the very fiber of your being is rebelling against you. With a heavy hand you touch the remaining chains, each time the door swells and begins to buckle. When the last chains falls nothing happens, then cracks begin to appear radiating outwards. The door slowly crumbles with each piece evaporating seconds after. Beyond the door is a room of darkness. It is like the bright room. No walls, no ceiling and no floor. But theres something inside it. It feels familiar, it feels as if every bad memory was pressed into one single being. And as you stand there, just before the threshold, you realize "Its right there." This thing that is every horrible memory taken form is right there, just opposite to you. You couldn't see it because the darkness wraps itself around it. You can only see its cold hollow eyes. You try to go through the door but you can't. Your trapped in the bright room. The person you see is yourself. The you that lives in the real world. The thing that you created to cope with your reality while you hid yourself within your own mind. The dark room isn't a room. The door isn't a door. Its a window to the world you hid yourself from. As you remember this you back away restoring the door and chains by second nature, as if you've done it a hundred times. And when the eleventh chain is restored you stand there. You don't remember the door. But you still feel it, you feel what you saw beyond it. And you runaway from the door. You run away from the column. It sits on the horizon. Waiting for you to return.