I work at a garden centre in the UK. It’s a quiet job, but it pays the bills. With the Christmas break coming up, the place was nearly empty, and I was the last one to leave. As I headed to the bathroom to take a leak, I realized that I’d left my phone on the desk. So, I went back to get it.
When I finished my business, I tried to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge. It was jammed shut, and I couldn’t seem to open it. I tried kicking it, but that didn’t work either. Panic set in as I realized I was trapped.
I began to look around the bathroom to see if there was anything that could help me. All that was in the room was a toilet, a sink, and a light. I had a big coat on, so I wasn’t too cold, but the thought of being stuck in the bathroom for two weeks without food or water made me feel sick.
I banged on the door and shouted for help, but no one answered. I tried calling for help on my phone, but I had no signal. The silence was deafening, and I was starting to feel hopeless.
As the minutes turned into hours, and the hours turned into days, I began to lose track of time. The light started to flicker, and I knew that I was in trouble.
The days passed by in a blur, and I started to feel as though I was losing my mind. The light in the bathroom finally gave out, and I was plunged into darkness. The only sound was the constant dripping of the faucet, and the cold seeped into my bones.
I tried to ration the water from the sink, but it soon ran out. I was getting weaker by the day, and I knew that I needed to find a way out before it was too late.
In my dreams, I saw flashes of my past. Memories of my family, my friends, and all the things I’d taken for granted. The warmth of the sun on my skin, the sound of laughter, and the feeling of being alive. But those dreams always turned into nightmares, and I’d wake up screaming.
I tried to keep my mind occupied by talking to myself, singing songs, and trying to remember every detail of my life before I got stuck in the bathroom. But as the days passed by, it was getting harder to remember anything.
I started to see things that weren’t there. Shadows that moved across the walls, whispers in the dark, and the feeling of someone breathing down my neck. I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying.
As the second week drew to a close, I knew that I was running out of time. I could barely move, and I was so weak that I could barely stand up. I knew that I needed to find a way out, but I didn’t know how.
I spent what felt like hours trying to pry the door open with my hands and kicking it with my feet, but it was no use. The lock was too strong, and the door wouldn’t budge. I was trapped, alone and helpless.
In my dreams, I saw myself as a small child, lost and alone in a dark forest. The trees were twisted and gnarled, and the ground was covered in a thick layer of fog. I stumbled through the underbrush, searching for a way out, but I couldn’t find one. Every time I turned a corner, the forest shifted and changed, and I was lost all over again.
I tried to stay awake as long as possible, but exhaustion would always overcome me eventually. I would drift off into a fitful sleep, only to wake up screaming, drenched in sweat.
The cold was becoming unbearable, and my body was starting to shut down. I knew that I didn’t have much time left, but I couldn’t bear the thought of dying alone in that tiny, cramped bathroom.
And then, just when I thought all hope was lost, I heard a sound. It was faint at first, barely audible over the sound of the dripping faucet, but as I listened, it grew louder and more distinct. It was the sound of someone moving outside the door.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I stumbled to my feet, lurching towards the door. “Hello?” I shouted, pounding on the wood with my fists. “Is someone out there? Please help me!”
The sound stopped abruptly, and there was a moment of silence before I heard a muffled voice. “Is someone in there?” it said. “Who are you?”
“It’s me!” I shouted. “I’m stuck in here! Please, help me!”
There was a pause, and then the sound of something heavy scraping against the wood. A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.
I stumbled out of the bathroom, blinking in the dim light of the garden centre. There was a man standing there, staring at me in shock. He was wearing a thick coat and a woolly hat, and he was holding a set of keys in his hand.
“What the hell?” he muttered. “How long have you been in there?”
“Two weeks,” I said weakly. “I was trapped. I couldn’t get out.”
The man looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the darkness.
My mind was racing. The water had stopped working a few days ago, and I hadn’t had anything to drink since then. I knew I was dehydrated, and I could feel my body slowly shutting down. My thoughts were becoming more and more fragmented, and I found myself unable to distinguish between reality and the vivid dreams that plagued me.
In my dream, I was back in the garden center, surrounded by lush green plants and colorful flowers. The air was heavy with the scent of fertilizer, and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. But then, everything started to wither and die, the plants turning brown and brittle, the flowers wilting and falling to the ground. And in the midst of this destruction, I saw the figure of a woman, her face twisted into a grotesque mask of pain and anguish.
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. I was shivering uncontrollably, and I realized that the temperature in the bathroom had dropped even further. I stumbled over to the sink, hoping to find some water there, but it was bone dry. I was completely alone, trapped in this freezing, barren room, with no hope of escape.
I knew that I was going to die, that I would never make it out of this place alive. But in the depths of my despair, a flicker of hope appeared. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out. I remembered the thick wall behind the toilet, and I wondered if I could somehow break through it.
I picked up the toilet tank cover and slammed it against the wall, over and over again. The sound echoed through the empty room, but the wall remained intact. I tried kicking it, but my frozen feet barely made a dent.
I collapsed onto the cold, hard floor, tears streaming down my face. I was completely powerless, at the mercy of this cruel and unforgiving world. And then, in the midst of my despair, I heard a sound. A faint scratching, coming from the other side of the wall.
I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Was it just my imagination, or was someone else here with me? I pressed my ear against the wall, listening intently. And then, I heard a voice, a soft and familiar voice, whispering my name.
“John, John, can you hear me?”
It was my wife’s voice, clear as day. I felt a surge of hope, and I started pounding on the wall, desperate to break through. And then, I heard another voice, a voice I had not heard in years.
“John, it’s me, your father. You have to get out of there, son.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. My father had been dead for over a decade, but here he was, speaking to me from beyond the grave. I tried to block out the voices, to focus on reality, but they wouldn’t go away.
In my dream, the wall began to crack and crumble, and I could see the faces of my loved ones peering through the gap. But then, the wall reformed, solidifying once again, trapping me in this endless cycle of hope and despair.
I screamed in frustration, my voice echoing off the walls. I was losing my mind, consumed by fear and desperation. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.
Days have passed since I last ate, and I can feel my body growing weaker. My mind is consumed by the vivid hallucinations that have taken over my every waking moment.
At first, the dreams were just flashes of memory from my life outside of this bathroom. Now, they’ve become something far more sinister. Every time I close my eyes, I see a world of darkness and chaos.
In one dream, I’m back at the garden center, wandering aimlessly through the rows of flowers and plants. The sound of the wind echoes through the empty space, and the cold bites at my skin.
Suddenly, I hear a noise. It’s coming from the bathroom. I hurry over to investigate, but when I open the door, I find myself face to face with a towering figure. It’s made entirely of shadows, and its eyes glow like red-hot embers.
The creature lunges at me, and I wake up gasping for air.
In another dream, I’m back in my childhood home. The place is empty, and the walls are covered in peeling wallpaper. I walk down the hallway, and as I do, the floorboards creak beneath my feet.
I hear a whisper, and I turn around to see my mother standing there. But as she gets closer, her face contorts into something twisted and demonic. She reaches out to grab me, and I wake up screaming.
These dreams are all-consuming, and they’ve left me feeling like I’m losing my grip on reality. I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not anymore.
My body aches with hunger and thirst, but the only thing I can think about is escaping the madness that’s taken over my mind.
I’ve lost track of time, but it feels like an eternity since I first became trapped in this bathroom. The temperature has dropped so low that I can see my breath in the air, and my body is weak and trembling with cold.
The hallucinations have become so intense that I’m starting to believe they’re real. In one particularly vivid dream, I’m sitting in the bathroom, staring at the door. Suddenly, I hear a voice on the other side.
“Hello?” the voice says. “Is anyone in there?”
I rush to the door and try to open it, but it won’t budge. “Help!” I shout. “I’m trapped in here!”
The voice on the other side doesn’t respond, and I begin to panic. I bang on the door with all my might, but it still won’t open.
I’m so focused on trying to escape that I don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. The walls around me start to close in, crushing me in a vise-like grip. I scream in terror, but there’s no one around to hear me.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the walls stop moving. I’m left gasping for air, my body bruised and battered. That’s when I realize that I’m not going to make it out of here alive. The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over me. I’m going to die alone in this freezing, dark bathroom, and no one will ever know.
As I sit there, staring at the walls, I begin to feel a sense of calm wash over me. Maybe this is how it was meant to end, I think. Maybe this is the fate that was waiting for me all along. And then, I hear a sound. It’s faint at first, but as it grows louder, I realize that it’s the sound of the door unlocking.
My heart races with hope and adrenaline as I rush to the door. With a loud creak, it swings open, and I’m blinded by the bright light of the outside world. Standing there, looking down at me, is a group of people. They’re wearing gardening gloves and carrying shovels and bags of soil.
“Are you okay?” one of them asks me.
I can’t find the words to respond. All I can do is stare up at them in disbelief.