The Waiting Room

Here I am. Sitting on this sticky plastic chair, looking at that extremely big door. Next to me a young woman is sitting on a fluffy couch.
She is reading a magazine about the latest fashion. I want to get one of those magazines myself. Next to her on a little table is a big pile of magazines. Should I stand up and get one? Or just sit here like a gentleman and look at the weird painting of a dog on the wall next to the door.
It is a dog trying to catch a frisbee. He looks happy. Suddenly the door slams open. Inside it is pitch dark. A voice says next. The girl stands up nervously. Then she looks at me from the corner of her eye.
After she went into the darkness the door closes again. Now I am all alone with my thoughts. My horrible thoughts. I am a kind person. Lets hope the person behind that door can see that. Because if he or she can not then I am in serious trouble. Like extreme trouble. The door opens again. This time the girl comes out.
She is crying and shaking. She runs out past me to the door on the other side of the room. The door to the outside world. Oh my god how much I wouldn't give to go through that door right now. And yet I am still sitting here.
Fretting to myself getting more and more scared. The door is still wide open, but I am not hearing anything from inside. Should I go in? Or not?  I am still sitting here. Not able to stand up. Am I scared? The chair under me feels like it is getting hotter and hotter. Oh who am I kidding. I am not made for this job.
I am just a lazy man that has lived peaceful his whole life.
My father wanted me to get this job. The only reason I am here is because he is gone.
Why am I still here? Why did I sign the contract? The chair under me is so hot that I can't think straight anymore. I want to stand up.
I have to stand up. I am going to stand up now. Am I? Yes. Now. Now. Now. Oh god. Why am I still sitting here. I hear a sound coming from inside the darkness.
Next. And again. Next please. And again. Next. But I am still sitting here.
Minutes go by. At least I guess. The door closes in front of me. That was my chance.
I ruined it. I ruined it all. Why. Why. Why. Why am I so stupid. Why am I doing this to myself. I look to my right. The walls are coming closer. Is that possible? Closer.
I try to scream. But no sound is coming from my mouth. The walls are coming closer. And closer. Now they are so close that I can't stand up anymore.
I am stuck on the chair. The chair is burning up. Why am I here.
Why am I torturing myself.
WHY.
The door slowly opens again.
A man walks out and says 'welcome Mr Hamlet'.
My heart is beating. It is beating so hard I can't even hear myself think. Think.
I look in his eyes. Is this it? Is that what I have been looking for?
I raise my hand slowly. He is doing the same. Our hands meet each other in the middle and give a firm handshake. After a few seconds he signals me to follow him into his office. It is a pretty straight forward office.
It is a grey-ish room. Filled with normal office furniture like a desk and a plant. It reminded me of something. Something from a story. I can't completely pinpoint it.
The man sat down behind a desk against the far back wall of the room.
There are two chairs on my side. The man slowly raises his hand again and points at one of the chairs. I started walking to the chair.
The second I sit down the room starts moving. Left. Right. Up. Down.
Like an elevator. The man was still just sitting down looking at me like nothing was wrong. I on the other hand am about to throw up. I want to stand up and walk to the door. But I don't. This is my only chance to make it work.
'So you want to work here?' he said. While he said it his eyeball started falling out of his head. Right before it looked like it was about to fall on the ground he stopped talking and the eye went back in his head. 'Uh are you okay?' I asked.
'Uhm yes i think so, why?' He responded. 'Uh nothing carry on'.
The room stopped turning and everything went silent. I want to get out of here. Now. I am trying to stand up. But i can't. Im stuck to the chair.
The man is still looking at me.
I need to get out.
NOW.
I stand up slowly.
The man looks at me in confusion.
I stand there for a few seconds and then I run as fast as I can to the door.
The door is locked. I start screaming and pulling the door as hard as I can. This is it.
The door flies out of its socket and hits me on the head.
I tumble backwards and lay on the floor for a few minutes. I slowly open one eye and I can see what is behind the door. A light.
The light seems to cover me as I slowly faint into darkness. This is it.
I feel something.
Cold as ice.
It hurts.
All over my skin.
It is rain.

By Rat Hamlet