Imagine, you stand before a puzzle. The pieces seem infinite and every attempt to connect them seems impossible. Once you finally get lucky and find the two rare pieces that connect, you find that it somehow becomes easier for you to solve the puzzle. And when you finally see the bigger picture, it may or may not be as satisfying as trying to figure it out from the start.
As I slowly made my return to the living room, the words written on the basement door burned in my mind. What pieces did I have to put together? While these puzzles were challenging, they vaguely pointed me in any direction of having pieces to 'put together'. What was I expected to put together? I thought back to the first room I was in. What kind of pieces could have been hiding in there?
The only things in there I remembered were the key in my favorite book and the numbers 9-1-9. Why did it have to be those numbers, what did they mean? Maybe it was a date, September 1st, 2009? That day meant nothing to me. Maybe the clue was in the basement. The only thing significant about the basement was my childhood fears. Maybe the other rooms had some kind of metaphorical significance like that? The bedroom with my favorite book, it was probably supposed to represent comfort or happy memories or something. But how did that tie into the living room and my escape? Well, what does the living room represent? Family? That made about the most sense to me. I had to go with it.
Looking around the room, I saw picture frames standing against tables and some on the walls. They were ones I didn't recognize. Where were the pictures of my graduation? Where were the ones of my friends and I traveling for our senior trip? They were all gone, replaced by childhood pictures. I could see myself and my little sister playing in one of them. Another one had my mother and father standing behind us like a family portrait. I looked over my parents again. It had been so long since I'd seen them last, I missed them. I tried thinking back to the last time I saw them but my mind went blank.
I tried not dwelling on it too much. I turned my attention back to the front door. It was a plain white door with average carvings in it. The only thing that stood out was the missing doorknob with the lack of a hole to indicate there had never been one. It reminded me of how helpless and trapped I was. The only difference between this room and the others I'd encountered was that there was no immediate danger to me if I didn't figure the room out quickly. For this, I was thankful.
I turned my attention back to the pictures. If I was right and this room represented family, these would hold the clues to solving my way out. The picture sitting on my coffee table was a smiling picture of my mother. I turned it around and it read, 'The song I knocked'. I instantly took this as a clue to the door. It was a weird way to get a door open, but it wasn't much stranger than making a giant puzzle out of a door to open it. I turned over a few more pictures to find no writing on the backs, save for one. It was a picture of my mother hugging me, a wide smile spread across my face. On the back of the picture, it read the words, 'let my in'. It was then that I knew what exactly the pictures were refering to.
As a kid, there was a day that I returned home from school. I was upset about something that had happened there, but I couldn't remember what it was. I remember going to my room and grabbing my favorite book of my shelf. I had my door closed so nobody could see me crying. It didn't take but a few minutes before I heard a knock on the door. It was a song. I couldn't remember how it went exactly. After the knocking ended, my mother opened the door and held me in her arms. She reminded me that everything was going to be okay. Thinking back made tears well up in my eyes, I missed her.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned over the final family photo. There was nothing written on the back. Do I not even get a hint of what song I'm knocking on the door? Figures it wouldn't be so easy. I closed my eyes and tried hard to think back to the knocking. It had to have been an important song to me. Was it a nursery rhyme? I shrugged, it was a start.
I made my way to the front door and started knocking to the tune of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'. Nothing happened. I tried 'Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star'. Still nothing. I tried 'London Bridges'. Finally, after I finished, I heard a click coming from the door and it swung open on it's own.
"London Bridges," I said aloud. "Why that song? Was it my jam as a kid or something?"
I shrugged it off and looked outside. It was incredibly dark out, not even a star in the night sky. I stuck my head outside and there was nothing but infinite blackness. What the hell was going on here? Where did the world go? I turned around to go back inside, only to remember the struggle to have made it to where I am now. Was the outside another room to escape from? That was impossible!
All the lights in the house went out, fading to match the darkness on the outside. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. I had nowhere to go. As everything continued to fade, it was impossible to tell my eyes being open from them being closed. Caught in an unending void, possibly for an eternity.
I awoke, back in my bedroom. The sunlight pouring in through my window, nearly blinding me. I heard a knocking on my door before my mom stepped inside.
"Good morning," she smiled to me. "Are you excited about today?"
I yawned and stretched before getting out of bed. "Not really, mom." I replied. She picked me up and carried me to the kitchen. I pulled up my chair and started eating the pancakes she'd prepared for my sister and I. As I scarfed it down, my mom handed me a paper.
"Here's your permission slip for your field trip to the escape room," she said.
"But mom, I don't want to go," I cried. "I told you, they scare me."
My mom came over and stood beside me. "I know you're afraid but you'll have your entire class there with you," she comforted me. "You'll be safe, I promise. If it makes you feel better, you can bring your stuffed rabbit,"
With that, I stood from the table and ran to my room with excitement, grabbing my stuffed bunny, Sarah, from my bed. I gave her a squeeze and heard her start humming my favorite song, 'London Bridges'.
With my favorite stuffed bunny in my hand and my backpack in the other, my little sister and I made our way to the bus stop outside.
As I slowly made my return to the living room, the words written on the basement door burned in my mind. What pieces did I have to put together? While these puzzles were challenging, they vaguely pointed me in any direction of having pieces to 'put together'. What was I expected to put together? I thought back to the first room I was in. What kind of pieces could have been hiding in there?
The only things in there I remembered were the key in my favorite book and the numbers 9-1-9. Why did it have to be those numbers, what did they mean? Maybe it was a date, September 1st, 2009? That day meant nothing to me. Maybe the clue was in the basement. The only thing significant about the basement was my childhood fears. Maybe the other rooms had some kind of metaphorical significance like that? The bedroom with my favorite book, it was probably supposed to represent comfort or happy memories or something. But how did that tie into the living room and my escape? Well, what does the living room represent? Family? That made about the most sense to me. I had to go with it.
Looking around the room, I saw picture frames standing against tables and some on the walls. They were ones I didn't recognize. Where were the pictures of my graduation? Where were the ones of my friends and I traveling for our senior trip? They were all gone, replaced by childhood pictures. I could see myself and my little sister playing in one of them. Another one had my mother and father standing behind us like a family portrait. I looked over my parents again. It had been so long since I'd seen them last, I missed them. I tried thinking back to the last time I saw them but my mind went blank.
I tried not dwelling on it too much. I turned my attention back to the front door. It was a plain white door with average carvings in it. The only thing that stood out was the missing doorknob with the lack of a hole to indicate there had never been one. It reminded me of how helpless and trapped I was. The only difference between this room and the others I'd encountered was that there was no immediate danger to me if I didn't figure the room out quickly. For this, I was thankful.
I turned my attention back to the pictures. If I was right and this room represented family, these would hold the clues to solving my way out. The picture sitting on my coffee table was a smiling picture of my mother. I turned it around and it read, 'The song I knocked'. I instantly took this as a clue to the door. It was a weird way to get a door open, but it wasn't much stranger than making a giant puzzle out of a door to open it. I turned over a few more pictures to find no writing on the backs, save for one. It was a picture of my mother hugging me, a wide smile spread across my face. On the back of the picture, it read the words, 'let my in'. It was then that I knew what exactly the pictures were refering to.
As a kid, there was a day that I returned home from school. I was upset about something that had happened there, but I couldn't remember what it was. I remember going to my room and grabbing my favorite book of my shelf. I had my door closed so nobody could see me crying. It didn't take but a few minutes before I heard a knock on the door. It was a song. I couldn't remember how it went exactly. After the knocking ended, my mother opened the door and held me in her arms. She reminded me that everything was going to be okay. Thinking back made tears well up in my eyes, I missed her.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned over the final family photo. There was nothing written on the back. Do I not even get a hint of what song I'm knocking on the door? Figures it wouldn't be so easy. I closed my eyes and tried hard to think back to the knocking. It had to have been an important song to me. Was it a nursery rhyme? I shrugged, it was a start.
I made my way to the front door and started knocking to the tune of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'. Nothing happened. I tried 'Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star'. Still nothing. I tried 'London Bridges'. Finally, after I finished, I heard a click coming from the door and it swung open on it's own.
"London Bridges," I said aloud. "Why that song? Was it my jam as a kid or something?"
I shrugged it off and looked outside. It was incredibly dark out, not even a star in the night sky. I stuck my head outside and there was nothing but infinite blackness. What the hell was going on here? Where did the world go? I turned around to go back inside, only to remember the struggle to have made it to where I am now. Was the outside another room to escape from? That was impossible!
All the lights in the house went out, fading to match the darkness on the outside. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest. I had nowhere to go. As everything continued to fade, it was impossible to tell my eyes being open from them being closed. Caught in an unending void, possibly for an eternity.
I awoke, back in my bedroom. The sunlight pouring in through my window, nearly blinding me. I heard a knocking on my door before my mom stepped inside.
"Good morning," she smiled to me. "Are you excited about today?"
I yawned and stretched before getting out of bed. "Not really, mom." I replied. She picked me up and carried me to the kitchen. I pulled up my chair and started eating the pancakes she'd prepared for my sister and I. As I scarfed it down, my mom handed me a paper.
"Here's your permission slip for your field trip to the escape room," she said.
"But mom, I don't want to go," I cried. "I told you, they scare me."
My mom came over and stood beside me. "I know you're afraid but you'll have your entire class there with you," she comforted me. "You'll be safe, I promise. If it makes you feel better, you can bring your stuffed rabbit,"
With that, I stood from the table and ran to my room with excitement, grabbing my stuffed bunny, Sarah, from my bed. I gave her a squeeze and heard her start humming my favorite song, 'London Bridges'.
With my favorite stuffed bunny in my hand and my backpack in the other, my little sister and I made our way to the bus stop outside.
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