The White Room

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You're in a white room

The wall is blank

The floor is clean

You're standing in the middle

The wall holds a single painting

The other walls are blank

You walk to the painting

The frame is empty

The frame has a crack

You pick away at the crack

The corner breaks away

The frame leaks grey

You look closer

The grey covers the wall behind the frame

The walls of the room get a shade darker

You scratch the crack in the frame once more

The crack in the frame grows

The frame leaks several drops of black

You scrape away the cracks

The trickle of black becomes a stream

The stream becomes a river

Your feet are covered in the blackness

The grey has covered your torso

The crack is now a hole

You try to wipe away the grey and black on your body

The grey goes nowhere but feels as though it weren't there

The black is wet and taints your hands

You scratch at the crack again

The crack grows but nothing comes out

The black is at your knees now

You're stuck in place by the black filling the room

The black rises like a liquid but doesn't move

You look down

The pieces of the frame you broke off are floating on the black

The pieces are clean unlike yourself

You pick up the pieces with your blackened hands

The pieces go in one by one

The black stops filling the room

You add another piece

The walls lose their grey covering

The last piece is in your blackened hands

You place it in the frame

The frame is whole now

The room is white again

You look as silver fills the frame and crack

The frame was not for a picture

The frame was for a mirror

You look in the mirror

The grey has covered your face

The black is at your throat

You watch as the shades wash away

The grey is a puddle on the floor

The black is a floral pattern stemming from your feet

You look up at the mirror, everything is in color except you

You wake up


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