The Field had short, green grass. A clear blue sky hung overhead; there were clouds scattered across it, some wispy, some fluffy like whipped cream. Every so often, butterflies would float past. There are cherry blossom and bonsai trees beside tiny lakes, with water so clear and still, you'd think it was a mirror. Each tree and lake sit together like each was made for the other. Some of the brightest colors I've ever seen. You would expect it to be too hot if you saw it yourself, but it was cool, like the beginning of fall. The Field doesn't end.
The Staircase was concrete but soft and smooth to the touch. Something about it seemed familiar. A metal handrail flanked each side of the stairs down into the darkness. You could have looked as hard as you want, at whatever angle you want, with whatever flashlight you want. You won't see where it leads until you go down it.
A single lightbulb on a string in the middle of the ceiling flicked on to reveal The Chamber. Despite this, it's still kind of dark in there. The place seems familiar. Like Grandpa's old workshop garage. The only things distinguishable about the walls were the four doors attached to them. One to the wall on the left, two on the wall in front of me, one to the wall on the right.
The left door read: SELF. The door was white, but a little dirty. It's stained and slightly yellowed. Like that old white tee shirt that you won't get rid of because it still fits and makes you look decent. The sound of broken glass crackling under my shoes greeted me. My eyes were greeted similarly; with the sight of broken glass everywhere in the room. On the floor, walls, ceiling, everywhere. Not shattered in pieces, but cracked, with no two spots or sections broken the same way. No matter where I look, my reflection is broken and unclear.
The middle-left door read: LOVE. The door was red. The color of love, but also the color of blood. Appropriate, because this room was flowing with it. I was, at least, ankle-deep in it the whole time. But it was still and calm. The blood wasn't menacing, or scary. No more frightening than water would be. Around the room are dead flowers of all types; some died of natural causes, but you would have been able to see that some had their stems cut, many before they even fully bloomed. There are some flowers in the room here and there that are vibrant, beautiful, and living. They are resting in vases filled with the blood.
The middle-right door read: HOME. The door was the front door to my own house; that familiar green, with the black handle. The room behind it was my room from the same house. Looking out the windows in the room was the front yard of my house, in St. Simons Island, Georgia. Though, once the front yard ends, it converted into Athens, Georgia. You could have seen downtown, and the hills on the outskirts, both at the same time. Behind me, instead of the wall where the entry door was, there was a black void you could see into forever. When I reached into it, it was just empty space. Almost like space itself but with no stars. If you were to throw a baseball into it, you would watch it fly forever, until it got smaller…and smaller…and smaller until it disappears from existence. When the time to leave came, the exit door emerged from the void. The void remains on the wall.
The right door read: LIFE'S WORKS. Images started to appear slowly around the room. Me, running, in my old Glynn Academy Cross Country uniform. Other images show different me's at different times. They remind me of my old Boy Scout endeavors, and my current Eagle Scout memorabilia appeared on the wall. Guitars float around the room, playing the songs I've learned. Around the floor of the room are crumpled up pieces of paper by the hundreds, maybe thousands. The images increase in speed and go by me faster, and faster, and faster.
When I exited this last room, I see The Throne. It was the Iron Throne from the series Game of Thrones. Right under the lightbulb that lit the room. It was labeled: THE FUTURE. I heard something telling me I can sit in it, and it will show me something if I so choose. I cannot bring myself to sit in it out of almost paralyzing fear. A fear that it may show me nothing at all. The fear that I may not have a future.
I am alone the whole time. This is the end of the journey. The Rooms, The Doors, The Throne, The Chamber, The Staircase, The Field I started in, and everything within it fades into subconsciousness.