The Closed Door (Part I)
There was enough silence for the beats of my heart to resonate in my ears, each beat seemed to shrink the small room where I was, one more intense than the previous one. I didn't know what I was doing in a tub, but I was there, locked in a room that couldn't even be called a room; as small as a closet, painted in its most abandoned and sickly shade of green, with only an iron door. I had seen it for a moment, thinking there was something behind that door, but I lowered my head again and shifted uncomfortably in the tub. Yes, I was inside a dirty tub, but I felt safe in there, I didn't want to get out and I didn't want to look at the door again.
