As she lay on the hard cement floor of the dimly lit hallway, Bailey’s eyelids twitched and flickered open as she awoke. She wondered where she was. It was cold in the hallway, and a chill ran through her body.

Bailey began to sit up, but found that her body ached a bit. She rotated her head on her stiff neck and looked down to find her thin, white frame draped in a pale green hospital gown. Slowly, she got to her feet. Her hand on the cold, white cement wall to support her, she walked shakily down the hallway towards a steel door that loomed in the distance.

How did she get here? Bailey had no idea. She’d been sick, the last she remembered, at a party. She’d found a bed to lie down in. Her bare feet echoed each time they hit the floor. The lights flickered on and off, hurting Bailey’s eyes. She didn’t like it here.

She reached for the handle of the steel door. It seemed as though it had taken forever to reach it. She tugged, but it was to heavy for her to open. She looked back, down the hallway and gasped.

She vaguely remembered someone lifting her out of the bed at the party. She could remember the stench of the person who’d picked her up. They’d smelled like death. She remembered their wheezy laugh, which sent shivers through her spine.

She looked down at her wrists, to see purpled bands wrapped around them. She opened her fists, and saw specks of red. Her eyes floated down slowly, and then she saw the deep red liquid that was splattered all over her gown. She suddenly remembered the cold metal cot in the white room. She remembered what he’d done to her. She remembered how she had cried. She remembered what she’d done to him.

A loud band on the other side of the door brought her back to the present as her head turned sharply and her eyes widened in terror. She took off running down the hallway, as fast as she could. She could no longer feel how her body ached. All she could think of was escape.

So, she ran down the hallway, and around the corner. Suddenly, she saw a wooden door. Freedom. Escape. She could hear the steel door creak open in the distance behind her. She heard a moan and another wheezing laugh. She kept running and, finally, reached the wooden door.

Light streamed through the cracks. She took one last, quick look behind her and pulled on the handle. Her eyes watered in the sunlight and the fresh air whipped her hair around. Bailey took a step out the door and was safe at last.

http://writing.progressiveu.org/node/picture-16