Fragment 3

Robert is standing up. He had to psyche himself up to do it. It feels like invisible weights have been hung on his body. He has to concentrate on balancing, on not falling down. When he walks forward a couple of steps it feels like the carpet and his shoes are made of pieces of opposing Velcro. When he walks he lifts his leg higher than usual. It looks like he’s trying to step over things, like there are invisible shapes blobbed in the air, lots of obstacles made of nothing.

As he gets closer to the door, Robert steadies himself. Shit … the door. It feels a lot more important than it usually does. Robert sizes it up, tries to work out what to do. All I have to do is pull the handle and leave the room. The door looks bigger, like it might be really thick, like it has this authority – it throbs like it’s losing patience. It’s not a big deal. It’s a fucking door. I open it and I walk through. All I need to do is leave the room and find the others. Leave … the … room … Robert jumps out of over-thinking-mode and just pulls the door open. He doesn’t think about the force, it’s like he’s superhuman. The door slams against the wall and Robert jumps in fright.
He stares down the dark hallway corridor that connects all of the upstairs rooms in the house.
It feels so fucking cold. Robert looks down the corridor that looks dark and deserted and seems to stretch on forever. He can hear faint sounds. Smudge … laughing? Cool. I’ll go find them … after I’ve … Robert wants to be out of the corridor so he slips in the nearest door possible which is … where’s the fucking light? Can’t see a fucking thing … where’s … click … ok, the bathroom.
Robert closes the door behind him. He leans against the wall and stares at the impact that his hand makes on the linoleum tiles. Ripples bobble off it, like he’s put his hand in water. He removes his hand and the wall goes back to normal. He puts his hand back and watches the watery effect again. He feels less cold. He walks towards the mirror.

The reflection looks almost too real. Robert recognizes himself but it’s more like he’s looking at an expertly CGI rendered version of himself. He looks almost too perfect. As he gets closer, the image changes: it seems to flicker, like a hologram. He looks at the scared expression of the person he’s looking at. The person looks lost, their skin looks clammy. Robert moves so that his face is virtually against the mirror. He stares into his own eyes which are staring back at him intensely.

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