There had to be another way out. It made no sense for there not to be, but I hadn’t seen it. I’d never actually seen the majority of the ward, I realised slowly. Whenever I left my room for medical tests, I was put in a wheelchair and taken out through the door I had willingly walked through what felt like months ago. But that couldn’t be the only way. What if the card reader or lock stopped working? They’d need a backup. Another way to get into the ward.

I started to step forward before freezing as my eyes found the camera on the pastel wall in front of me. Was there anyone watching? There couldn’t be. No alarm had sounded. I hadn’t heard the heavy thunk of the magnetic lock echo through the halls, and there were no footsteps. That must have meant that no one was coming.

A flicker of hope burnt in my heart. Maybe I could escape before anyone even realised that I’d woken up. That would be good. I knew that I was too weak to fight, and my legs were already trembling from the effort of holding me up. I couldn’t run, and it would be pointless. I didn’t know where to go.

I shuffled forward slightly, not quite leaving my room before freezing. It felt wrong to run. My feet didn’t want to move. It was like I was fighting with myself, but I couldn’t turn around and go back into my bedroom. I might not get the chance to escape again, and I knew that. Instead, I’d be trapped. I’d be forced to undergo more and more tests until my body finally gave up, and I died.

That wasn’t what I wanted. That wasn’t the life I wanted. I longed for more. More than anything, I wanted to leave the cursed hospital I was trapped in behind me, to escape and feel the gentle kiss of the wind against my face. I had to see my dad again, and Mom too. And Phoebe. I couldn’t die without seeing her again. There was too much I needed to say to her.

I had to apologise. I needed to do so much more than just apologise too. I wanted to tell her that I should have never ignored her texts or her calls and explain everything that I had been struggling with. It was wrong for me to just blank her without saying anything, and the way I had heard my mom talking to her wasn’t okay either. I should have done something about that instead of just hiding away. I could have told her to stop and said that I did actually want to speak to Phoebe. I always wanted to talk to her. I was just a coward.

But I refused to continue to be one. That thought strengthened me. It made it easier for me to take a step forward, approaching the threshold of the corridor. My body tensed, and my hand tightened on the strangely shaped metal door handle as I waited for the inevitable alarm to sound, but nothing happened. The corridor was silent.

My eyes found the camera again as I took another step, moving into the hall and pulling my door shut behind me. It felt scary to close the door. Like I was stopping myself from being able to change my mind or turn back, but I had to. I needed to make it so that if anyone just happened to glance at the camera, they wouldn’t immediately notice that I was gone. If they looked in my room, they’d know, but I hadn’t seen any cameras in there.

There probably were some, though. It made sense for there to be some hidden in there. There were too many in the hall, but maybe they wouldn’t check. Maybe they’d just assume that I was still in my room, trapped in a dreamless sleep. I hoped they would.

The metal snick of the door shutting made me jump. It felt almost deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet hall. The only other sounds were my raspy breathing and the faint hum of electricity coming from the fluorescent lights above. I glanced up at them before looking down the corridor. Right. I had to go right. Away from the locked door that needed a key card to get through.

I started to move. My steps were slow and shuffling, my feet barely lifting off the ground. It felt strange to walk, like my body wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t, not really. I hadn’t moved more than a few steps, the distance between my bed and the bathroom or from the wheelchair to the examination table or MRI machine, for a long time. They wouldn’t let me walk. They wouldn’t let me do anything.

The strangely warm vinyl flooring felt sticky beneath my bare feet, and my body longed to turn around and go back to bed, but I wouldn’t let myself do that. I kept moving, kept walking down the corridor towards the part of the ward that I hadn’t explored, passing countless unmarked doors. I didn’t know where they led or what hid behind them, but I didn’t want to know. I was too scared to open them.

The corridor was too quiet, anyway. It didn’t sound like there was anything behind the doors. I couldn’t hear voices or even the soft breath of someone sleeping. There was nothing except the continued buzz of electricity, and that realisation made my chest clench. There should have been something. Voices or whispers. There were none. The ward was empty. There were no other patients, nurses or doctors. It was just me.

Why? That didn’t make any sense to me. There should have been someone. It was a hospital. I wouldn’t have the entire ward to myself, but I did, and that made me uneasy. There had to be something else going on. It couldn’t just be a normal hospital. Why were they keeping me there? And why was my mom okay with it?

Surely, I’d spoken to her at some point since I’d gone into the hospital. They said that I would. I’d be able to call her often, I’d been told. She must know how badly I was doing, but she hadn’t done anything about it. She hadn’t come to collect me or even asked the doctors anything. I couldn’t remember talking to her, but she would have done something if she couldn’t get through to me, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t have just left me to rot in the hospital.

My dad wouldn’t, at least. He would be too worried about me; he always is. Even when I was in Scotland with my mom, he’d text me just to make sure that I was alright and that Mom wasn’t treating me too badly. He wouldn’t just leave me in the hospital and not even call.

But then… why hadn’t he? I couldn’t remember him trying to speak to me at all since I’d been taken to the hospital. Did he even know where I was? But even before I went to the hospital, I couldn’t remember when the last time I spoke to him was, and that made fear grow in my heart. I needed to get out. I needed to get out of the hospital and find him. I had to make sure he was okay.

My steps slowed as I reached the end of the corridor, and I listened carefully, trying to pick up any sound. There was nothing, though. No footsteps or voices. Nothing to indicate that people were coming. My legs were weak and shaky, and I longed to stay where I was for a little while longer. Just long enough to regain my strength, but I knew that wouldn’t happen. I was too far gone. Rest wouldn’t help me feel better. I wasn’t sure what would.

I peered around the corner, eyeing the hallway. It looked exactly the same as the one I had just walked down. Pastel blue walls, cream floors, unmarked doors, and evenly spaced cameras covered by a plastic dome so that no one could rip them from the wall. Not that I’d be able to, I realised as I stared at the closest one that was just out of my reach. It was a little too high on the wall, but it was focused on me. I knew it was.

Why? Why were there so many cameras? They had been everywhere. Everywhere I went in the ward, I felt the cold touch of the cameras staring at me, but I just didn’t understand why. Was it for my safety? To make sure that I didn’t get hurt? How could I hurt myself? I was in a hospital. There was nothing there I could use. But then, why? Was it to scare me? So I’d stay in my room like a good girl, too afraid of leaving because they’d know immediately. Well, that didn’t work. I’d left. I’d walked out of my room, and they didn’t even seem to know.

I glanced up and down the corridor again before taking a step towards the wall with the camera on, unable to stop myself. I peered up at it, seeing my own eyes reflected back, distorted by the plastic covering. I wasn’t the only person looking at myself. I don’t know how I could tell, but I could. There was someone. Someone else. They were sitting behind the screen and watching me.

They’d been watching my entire escape attempt. I could feel it. But why? Why would they just sit there and watch without doing anything or trying to stop me? They must have been waiting for something. They were waiting for something to happen. It was the only thing that made sense to me because why else would they be watching if they didn’t think something was going to happen? Why would they have run all of those tests on me?

Unless that’s exactly why I was there. Why they hadn’t sent anyone in to find me and take me back to my room. That was a test too. They’d trapped me like a rat in a maze and were waiting to see what I’d do.

My hands began to tremble. Everything that had happened since I had been brought to the hospital, since I had willingly walked in, was nothing more than a test. An experiment. I was the thing they were studying. That’s all I was to them. A lab rat. Something they could poke and prod and do what they liked to because no one cared when it died. Was I even in a hospital at all? Or was it nothing more than a facade?

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I needed to leave. I had to find a way out.

Ripping my eyes away from the camera, I started to move again. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, and my steps were quicker. They were unsteady, and I had to trail a hand against the wall for support. There were too many doors, though, and every single one that I passed scared me. Anything could be behind them. Scientists, doctors, or worse. I wasn’t sure what was worse than that, but my mind promised that there was something. A monster. Something that could rip me apart, piece by piece. But maybe that would be better. At least then I would be free.

I reached the end of another corridor and stared blankly at the empty corridors before me. I had to turn. Left or right. Both directions looked exactly the same, though. There was nothing that hinted at which way was the right way to go.

Left. I had to go left. If I kept my left hand on the wall and always turned left, I’d find my way out. It was the best way to get out of a maze. Then, even if I got to a dead end, I could keep going. I wouldn’t get turned around or lost. I could systematically check every option until I found the exit. I wasn’t sure where that thought came from, but I listened to it, turning left and continuing to lean on the left wall.

My breathing had become heavier. I was out of breath, almost panting. There was a sharp pain in my side, but nothing fixed it, and I couldn’t let myself stop and recover. There was no time. I needed to get as far away from the lab as possible before anyone came for me. I had to find another door or an emergency exit or something. There had to be an emergency exit, right? Everywhere had to have them, didn’t they?

I reached the end of the corridor and turned again, finding myself in a much shorter hallway. The cameras seemed slightly further apart there, but I wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not. Or maybe they weren’t spaced any differently from the previous corridor. Maybe I was just grasping at straws.

My steps became slower again as I approached the dead end. There was a door on the right wall, but that was it. There was nothing else, no markings or anything to show me which way to go. I started to turn, my disappointment almost crushing before freezing.

Something caught my attention. I wasn’t quite sure what at first; my mind was working too slowly. There was something about the door that seemed wrong. A scuff. There was a mark on the door, near the bottom. It looked like it had been nudged or kicked open before, and that was a good sign. It meant someone had gone through it recently.

I tried to smother the hope that I felt building within me, scared that I would open the door and there would be nothing behind it. Or worse. It might be another locked door. But that was fine. If it was locked, I could find a way to open it. Maybe there would be a card lying around somewhere, or it might be sealed with a number lock. That would be fine. I could probably guess the code.

My hand shook as I reached out towards the handle, scared yet excited. My palms were slick, and the metal was cool to the touch. I had just closed my fingers around the strangely shaped metal when a mechanical buzz came from the other side of the door.

I leapt back, my heart in my throat. Someone was coming. There was a way out of the ward behind that door, and someone was coming through it. They were coming to find me. I needed to run, get away from them and then make a break for the door.

I started to move back down the corridor as quickly as I could, the stitch in my side burning with renewed vigour. I just needed to get to the end of the corridor, and then I could turn and try some of the doors. Hopefully, one of them would be unlocked, and I could hide in there until the person had gone past.

But if they were watching me through the camera, they’d know where I was. They would know exactly which room I was cowering in, and they’d be able to find me too easily. They’d drag me back to my room, probably drug me again, and then I’d be trapped forever.

I just had to hope. I had to hope that I could get away from the person. Maybe they weren’t watching me. Or they might not have an earpiece. They might go straight past the room I was hiding in and go to my bedroom, expecting to find me there. That would be good. It would give me more time to escape.

Delusional. I knew that I was being delusional, but it didn’t really matter. I had to cling to it as I rushed around the corner, getting there just in time. I heard the door open behind me, the soft whistle of the nurse, of Andrew, as he sauntered onto the ward. He was the one who was following me.

I broke into a run, fear spurring me on. He terrified me. He was too strong, too cold. He would have no problem dragging me away. I grabbed at the nearest door handle, tugging as hard as I could, but nothing happened. The door didn’t even budge. It was locked.

I couldn’t wait. I had to try another. Racing to the next door, I pulled at the handle, but nothing happened again. Hopelessness started to build in me as I tried more and more doors. Tears burned in my eyes, blinding me, as I took off running again. The next corridor. That’s where I had to go. There had to be a door there that was open. Just one that they forgot to lock.

He was still behind me. I could hear Andrew’s footsteps and carefree whistle over my gasping breaths and sobs. He wasn’t even running. He wasn’t hurrying to catch up with me. It was like he knew that I was trapped, and he was enjoying it too much. It was a game of cat and mouse. He was making me think I could escape his claws, but I couldn’t. I had to try. I had to keep trying.

My foot caught on the sticky vinyl, unable to lift any higher, and I tipped forward. Pain exploded in my wrists, ricocheting through my forearms as I slammed into the ground hard. A gasp escaped my lips, and tears streamed down my face, making the world a hazy white blur, but I needed to keep moving.

I dragged myself onwards, crawling as fast as I could. Each time my hands hit the ground, the pain shot through me, making me even more breathless. The world was foggy. It spun, feeling strangely similar to how I felt when I was going to a new world, but there was something different about it. It felt sharper. I could still feel my body. It wasn’t fading away. I was tethered, anchored to the world and unable to escape the pain and terror that thrummed within me as the footsteps drew even closer.

That was it. Andrew had almost reached me, and then it would all be over. I was going to be drugged back into oblivion, and they were going to continue running endless tests on me that I still didn’t even understand. It was the end. The world was going to be cut off from me. I wouldn’t be able to go back to it ever, just like Mitch’s world, but it wasn’t my choice that time.

It was someone else. Someone else was pulling the strings again, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t leave myself there, unable to fight or do anything. I wanted more. I wanted to fight.

The footsteps stopped, far too close to me, and I waited for the inevitable sting of the needle piercing my neck that I’d felt too many times before but couldn’t recall at all. Another sob forced its way out of my lips, but I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t give up.

Something in my heart shattered. A noise escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

“Rex!” I screamed.

I don’t know why I screamed the word or what I thought would happen, but nothing did. The echo of my shout died out, leaving the corridor silent again until Andrew stepped closer.

“Grace?” I heard him say.

His tone was soft and careful, but there was an edge to it. I could hear something beneath the surface. He was tired, maybe. Angry. Was he angry at me for trying to escape?

It didn’t matter. I forced myself to stand, my legs shaking so hard that I had to lean on the wall for support as I turned to face him. He was watching me. His expression was too carefully constructed, though. It looked like he was trying very hard to seem concerned, but he wasn’t succeeding. There was a smile pulling at his lips. A slight smirk.

He wasn’t angry at me. That wasn’t what the edge to his voice was. He was trying not to laugh at me. He found me crawling on the floor and trying to get away from him and the other scientists funny.

“Grace,” he repeated, stepping forwards. “What are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in your room?”

I moved back, sliding along the wall and trying to keep my distance from him. I didn’t want to allow him to get close enough to force pills into my mouth or inject me with something. It had happened before. The memory was there, somewhere deep within my mind. I had tried to escape before, but I couldn’t remember it. I couldn’t remember anything about it.

“Why am I here?” I asked, my voice rough and hoarse from disuse.

How long had it been since I spoke last?

A smile appeared on Andrew’s face, and he cocked his head to the side.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone too innocent.

“What are you doing to me?”

He stepped forward again, and I backed away, feeling the hard door frame bumping against my bones.

“We just want to keep you safe,” he said.

He’d said that before. Not just him. The others had too. The doctor and the other one. The other nurse. She’d said that to me.

“I don’t believe you.”

His smile grew even wider, and he opened his mouth to speak before a noise split the air. A siren. There was an alarm going off somewhere in the distance.

Andrew looked away, turning his head to the side.

“What’s going on out there?” I heard him mutter.

He wasn’t talking to me. There was someone else. Someone on the end of the earpiece. I took another step back, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn’t paying any attention to me.

They must have replied, whoever it was, because I saw Andrew’s eyes widen. He looked back at me as a scream echoed faintly through the corridor.

“What did you do?” he asked.

I don’t know where the feeling came from, but something started to grow in my stomach. A warmth. Happiness, maybe. No. It was stronger than happiness. It was victory.

“What do you mean?” I asked, copying his words and his innocent tone as another scream, louder that time, sounded.

Andrew looked over his shoulder, his expression fearful. He looked back at me, his mouth opening to speak.

A bang sounded, and dizziness rushed for me. Nausea slammed into me as I span, darkness shrouding my vision until suddenly, it cleared. My body tensed, preparing to fight Andrew or whoever it was that had just attacked me, but I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in that world any more.

“Are you planning to spend all day in bed?” a voice demanded. “We’re leaving first thing tomorrow. You need to pack and tidy this room. I don’t know how you’ve managed to make it such a pigsty. We’ve been here a month!”

Mom. It was my mom. She was marching across the room towards the curtains, the bedroom door open behind her. That must have been the noise I’d heard that ripped me out of the other world. I was home. Well, at my grandparents’ house, but that was better than being locked in a hospital or laboratory somewhere in another world.

“What time is it?” I asked groggily as I sat up.