1:01 AM

It was silent for a moment. Not completely — the wind still dashed through the room. But it felt silent to her. I’m not dead yet?

“What are you doing in my closet?”

She looked up. It was a four-year-old girl — the same as the pictures on the desks, but she wasn’t broken. She was dressed in an oversized pink t-shirt that covered her whole body. A stuffed bear was cradled in her arms. “I’m Charlie,” the child said, swaying the bear from side to side. The girl paused for a moment before responding. What.

“Hi. Charlie,” the girl responded — each word a sentence of its own. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my closet,” Charlie responded. “What’s your name?” The question stung. The girl winced slightly.

“I…” the girl said. “I- uh… I don’t know.” Charlie tilted her head.

“That’s okay! We can give you a new name! Is there a name you like?” Charlie’s excitement both comforted and frightened the girl.

“I’m not… sure. Where am I exactly? Other than you’re… uh… closet.” The girl started to stand up, emerging from her ball.

“Your mind,” Charlie said bluntly. “I think you breathed that red gas stuff and it took you straight here. It’s been lonely. My brother’s gone and I don’t know where he is?” Charlie paused, looking up at the girl. “Do you know? Have you seen him?”

The girl didn’t answer. “He had been cut open from the chest. Many of his central internal organs were removed from the body.”

“No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him.” The girl hesitated for a second, staring at the child. “Why are you here? I mean- in my mind, I guess.” Charlie stopped and looked up at her.

“I dunno. I woke up here a while ago — I don’t remember how long though. It’s always night here. I thought it was just my house until you woke up. I was able to look through your eyes. It was really weird at first, but then it was kinda fun.”

“How,” the girl began, “How does that work? You can just see through my eyes?” Charlie nodded.

“Yep! My eyes show your eyes. It’s like a television screen.” The girl’s face dropped. Can she control me? Is she my mind? No. A hallucination — it has to be.

“What do you do? When I’m not… you know… awake?”

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“Well, you’ve only really been awake once that I remember. The other times when you’re not I just walk around. I wait ‘till I’m tired and then I just go to sleep. Though I can’t really go to sleep. I kinda just sit there and close my eyes.”

The girl stared at Charlie. What is going on? Is this my mind? Why is that girl in here? Is this my… consciousness? The girl took in a deep breath. She bent to a knee, leveling herself with Charlie.

“Do you know why you’re here? Are my conscious or something?” Charlie smiled.

“No, I don’t think I am,” Charlie began. “I just showed up one day so unless you’re five days old or something like that I don’t think so. I don’t remember much,” her face sulked for a moment. She tightened her grip on the bear. “But that’s okay.” The girl’s heart hurt. She didn’t understand what her mind was showing her, or even if it was simply a hallucination, but she felt sad for the child.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll figure it out soon enough.” As the girl spoke, she realized something. She wasn’t only saying this to comfort Charlie — she was saying it to comfort herself too. Everything that happened to her in the past few hours terrified her. It was horrifying. You’ll figure it out. The girl glanced into Charlie’s eyes. They were ruby, glimmering in the moonlight. Those eyes. She thought back to that hallway. Those white, bright dots watching her.

“Have you seen anything in the hallways?” the girl asked. The words spilled without her thinking. Charlie gazed into her eyes. They were bottomless and foreboding. Her pupils contracted. “Stop,” they said. The girl shut her eyes, lifting her head down in concession.

“Nevermind. Don’t worry about it. Just sleep or rest or whatever.” The girl smiled at Charlie, who nodded and turned, walking toward one of the beds. The sheets drifted off the ground from the draft. The child jumped into the right bed, reaching to grab the blankets off the floor. Instinctively, the girl jogged over, helping the child by placing the sheets over her. Charlie smiled.

“Thank you.” She had a child-like lisp in her voice. “I think you need to go now. It’s not safe where you are. I saw a little bit before you went to sleep.” The girl froze. It’s not safe? What does that mean?

“Oh. Okay. Well then, how do I… leave?” she asked, shaking slightly. She looked around the room.

“I dunno. I thought you’d know. It’s your mind,” Charlie said nonchalantly. “Can you close my closet?” The girl smirked.

“Yeah,” she replied. She trotted to the closet, clutched the small knob, and shut the door. Charlie grinned.

The girl returned to Charlie’s bedside, examining the room for a possible exit. Maybe the window? No. You’ll die. There has to be a way out. As she thought, Charlie reached out her hand. The girl gently grabbed it. As she did, a wave of nausea fell over her. It was as if her brain demanded she stop. The girl released her hand, but the sickness remained.

“Thanks!” Charlie said. Her words were faint — almost draining. The girl stumbled back onto the bed. “Woah-” the girl heard Charlie say. The letters were scattered and disorienting. The room twisted and turned. She collapsed to the ground as her eyes faded into darkness.