Black.

That was all that I could see. No light, no people, no anything. There was no sound or wind either. It was just this blackness and the chair I sat in. My eyes scan the blackness, hoping to find some means of escape, but I'm not suprised when I find that my field of vision stretches not very far. My body felt light, too light almost, as if I was floating and not standing. Questions abused my mind and I find that I have no answers to them, but one questions stands out the most to me, and it was, who am I?

I stand and start forward, thinking that this is only a dream and I'll wake up soon, but it almost feels too real to be a dream. Maybe if I carry on walking, I'll just walk out of the dream. I know this probably won't work, but I'll do anything to wake up, to go back to...to, what is there outside of this blackness?

I stop walking and think for a moment, is this my life? Has this always been my life? Did I even have a life? Am I dead?

I find myself glancing around at the darkness, suddenly desperate for answers to this questions. A twisting feeling in my stomach came from the sudden urge of a desperate need. I look down at my hands, they are real, I can touch them. I tug my hair and realise too that that is real, but no pain comes. My eyebrows knit together in confusion, pain, I should have felt pain then, but I didn't. I bring my hand to my mouth and hesitate before biting down onto it hardly.

Nothing.

No pain. I bite down harder and harder, feeling my heart drop when I come to the same results each time. The metallic tatse of blood suddenly drips into my mouth and I pull my hand away. I look down at it and manage to see blood dripping to the floor. I bring my fingers to the blood, and feel some relief when I discover that it's real.

I don't even think before I start running. I have no idea what direction I'm running in, where I'll end up, or if I'll be able to run from this nightmare, but I must try. I feel my heart beat picking up, atleast now I know that I must be alive, beacuse only things that are alive, can feel their hearts, can feel the drop of them when they discover things that break them.

My breaths get quicker and quicker, as I run. I count each time my foot hits the floor, providing some kind of distraction from this nothingness engulfing me. I wasn't getting warm, like you were meant to when you run, I was just fine. I wasn't feeling that burning sensation in my legs either that you'd normally get. I shake the thoughts of normality away, as I was far from what ever normal would have been, and push forward. 

989 times my feet have now hit the floor. I felt a little tired and slow down to a walk, the numbers still ticking over in my head. There was still only blackness. Maybe this was me being dead,  maybe this is the afterlife. Maybe they torture you by making you think you are still alive and that this is a dream. 

996. 

997. And then I see something. It was white, and it was a shape of a chair. A chair. It was the very chair I woke up in. I almost collapse when I see it, just like my hope. 1000 steps in this direction brings you back to the start I guess.

My mind falls apart and I decide to run to my left. Counting each step like before. Now I started to feel like my lungs wanted more oxygen. Maybe this time something will change. 

But every hope I had gets crushed when I see that bloody chair again. I stop running and hang my head low, catching my breath as I did so. The fire of anger burns inside of me like an untamable wild fire. I just want this to be over already. 

I try run