Where Exactly...

The door you swore you were glaring at, having just disappeared. Vanishing, as if it never existed.

Glancing to the left, you come to the realization that the door was never there, it being a simple figment of imagination. You came in through the right door, and that's the only door in this room.

So why is there a second door there? It seems so old. Like it's been here for decades. Maybe more. And why is it so big? Was it this big before?

It seems...

too big.

Too big for the room, for this building. And it's not like the room is small, you could fit an elephant in here.

Yet, you question yourself, why it would be so big?

Why were you even here?

You should leave.

Just get up, and walk through the door- on your right, forget about the door that isn't there, and move on with your life. It's just a useless figment of imagination!

Except...

There is no door on your right.

There was never a door on your right, was there? This room only has one door. It always had only one door. Just get up from the desk and leave.

But,

Where did this desk come from? And the chair? It is soft, but also quite uncomfortable. Like it wasn't made for humans, for us, to sit on exactly.

A bit too rigid where it should be soft, a bit spongy where it should be hard. What is this room, anyway? You don't remember coming in. Or waking up. Maybe that's it! You're asleep, dreaming some awful nightmare about this room, with its single door that is right in front of the desk.

No, wait...

Behind you. Yes, the door was behind you when you entered. You did enter through the door on the ceiling, didn't you? How else would you be here? The door under the table is the only way to enter this room, and there is no other door. There was never another door.

Was there?

There isn't a door. You need to remember. There isn't a door. This room isn't a room, and so the door isn't a door. But if there isn't, how do you leave? Do you leave? Where would you go? Do you have a family? Do you have friends? Someone special? A pet? Do you have anyone? How did you get here?

What's your name? You know you have one. Surely, someone during your life called you something.

Right?

But...

Who? And how? How would they get into the room? After all, there was never a door to come in through.

And where would they come from, those possible people? From outside the room? How can that be? There isn't an outside. If there was, you'd know. Someone would come in, or at least knock. There, at the very least, would be a door or a window, not these grey, empty walls. Even just a table would be nice. Or a chair with actually equal legs.

You feel tired. Really tired. And hungry. Good god, you'd murder for a good sandwich. When was the last time you ate? It couldn't have been too long ago, right? You ate a short time ago, didn't you?

Before...

Before something.

Something important.

Something about this room that you're always in.

You do wish this room was larger. But, then again, it always felt too small. Too cramped. You don't really want much, just some room to walk. A silly want really, with you only having one leg and all.

What did happen to your left leg? Oh, right. Nothing. You just don't have it. You never had a right leg. You wonder what those feel like. You're distracted, and you scratch your right ear. It would be easier if you had a right hand, wouldn't it?

Probably.

Then again, you only have the left ear, so it's probably fine. Right?

The itch on your nose is back. Damn it, too high for your tounge this time. You would give anything for an arm to scratch with.

Damn that itch.

So annoying.

But...wait, what's itching? Your nose? What nose? You never had a nose, you know that. Why would you have a nose to itch? Oh? You understand. Yes. Screaming might help. Make you feel a bit better, at least. Shame you don't have a mouth.

Shame that the last thing you'll ever see with your eye is that damn door.

It's a shame that there was never a door to begin with.