And here she could pretend that she wasn't scared anymore. Scared of the past and what it contains. Scared of the future and what there was waiting. Scared of the present and what lingered around her. The thought of the people she knew and what they were doing right now. Here she stares into the darkness and the darkness stares right back. Above her lies a cloud, cluttered with the chaos of a million thoughts of past, present, future, and the million possibilities and concequences of every move made. Noted is there are no chairs in the room. Only cushions. Only duvets. So many that one could sink forever and never see the outside again. She is sitting in the middle, perched atop a cushion, duvet protective around her shoulders and head. She sits. And waits. Darkness. On the wall facing her a thousand wires. Each lets off the occasional spark and crackle of life and then, nothing. Like living were only a threat and that doing so would induce reality. Wires wrap around a box. A link to the outer world. Not switched on. She stares at the outside box, the reality box, half expecting images to flicker onto it's visible surface. Nothing. Noted is that the means to switch on the box is next to her, glowing as if a holy grail amidst the cushions. It goes unnoticed. The cloud above rumbles and out of it there is a small flicker. Then it shrinks. Only a little unnoticable amount but some mass from the cloud has gone. From her eye a tear falls to the cushioned ground. A downturned pink and dry mouth opens slightly. And as if the apocalypse had come a sigh erupts from the depths of her soul. The black void behind her lips let out this tiny eruption and her body slumped. Eyes still towards the box. Duvet still arranged around her although the sigh had made the earth move and caused the clpud to swell and a phone and a doorbell hissed at the same time. And somewhere in another room a clock began to tick. wanna go back?