Waiting

I didn’t remember how I got there and I didn’t remember why I might have gone there either. But there I was in what seemed to be a very uninviting waiting room. Long bench seats were cast in cold, hard metal. The yellow paint had chipped and flaked over time and a bold, black pattern of graffiti adorned them. I shivered in the cold. Knees bouncing nervously, I sat slightly hunched over, arms wrapped around myself firstly to try to keep warm and secondly because my stomach was in knots. Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock on the wall measured every second. How much longer could I stand this suspense. Whatever I was waiting for would be over soon, surely?

I studied the dirty floor. How many feet had walked through here? Around the room I saw empty crisp packets and drinks cans discarded next to an overflowing bin. A vending machine stood empty, gathering dust and filth, the glass cracked and the metal dented, probably by someone’s boot. Poking out from under my seat, I could see a small, fabric dolly, her dress stained and her woolly plaited hair scruffy. This place was depressing. I decided to stretch my legs and pass a few seconds of this indeterminate time. My knees groaned as I stood and walked around the room. Someone had thrown a half-eaten cheese sandwich, still in its cardboard wrapping, into the corner. Even that looked pitiful.

I glanced towards the window in an attempt to see outside but the glass was so filthy it was impossible to see through. Was anything happening out there? I decided to take a look. The old fashioned brass door knob turned stiffly in my hand and the door opened with a low squeak. I went to walk through the doorway but was stopped abruptly by a red brick wall. I was stunned and confused. That wasn’t there before, was it? Yet, here it was, directly outside the door, completely blocking any way of getting out. The bricks felt rough beneath my hands and a tentative push against them proved that the wall was indeed solid.

What would I do now? I turned back to the room and scanned the windows for locks, of which there were none. My pulse had become faster despite the advice from my brain to calm down. Beads of sweat had popped out under my arms and my tongue felt dry. Why didn’t I bring a drink with me? The cloying smell of the room, dirty nappies, urine and old tobacco smoke, combined with the claustrophobia I was suddenly experiencing had my head swimming. I sat down with a thump, head bowed, hands gripping the edge of the seat. After a moment I looked up towards the door. I hadn’t closed it and in my mind had a fleeting thought that that brick wall had been a figment of my imagination. But, no. The wall was still there.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Was the clock ticking faster? It seemed to be. I could feel a draught. Where was it coming from? The windows couldn’t open and the doorway had that wall across it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up so I tugged the collar of my jacket up around my ears and pulled the hood over my head. I wondered how long I had been sitting in this room waiting. It felt like hours but it couldn’t have been. Could it? My feet were freezing cold even though I had boots on. I decided to lie down on the seat, get my feet off of the floor. I tried not to think about who might have sat on the seat before me. As I lay down, drawing my knees up and tucking my cold hands inside my coat sleeves I forced my thoughts to warm, sunny places. Not just faraway holiday destinations but those impromptu family gatherings on blissful summer days, just lounging in the garden. I could almost feel the heat of the sun burning my face. But then the smell of the seat permeated those memories with its sour, choking, metallic odour. I sighed, my eyes closed. Suddenly I felt very tired. Perhaps it was the cold. Or maybe it was the futility of remembering such halcyon times when here I was, trapped in this awful, dirty, malodorous room.

A horrible thought crossed my mind. What if I had been forgotten? Was that why the brick wall had appeared? And then worse, what if I hadn’t been forgotten and the brick wall had been erected purposely to keep me in here? A myriad of words flashed through my mind - starving, crying, despair, madness to name a few. Surely this was not how things were going to end? I squeezed my eyes closed, willing my mind to go blank. I had never prayed before but now I did. I prayed to whoever might be listening that they help me, calm me, save me. Over and over I silently begged ‘please, please’. That cold draught blew around the room again rattling the litter on the floor. My teeth chattered as I tried to shrink further inside my coat.

An extra hard gust of cold air blew over me from my feet to my head, chilling every part of me. A deafening grinding, screeching sound caused me to sit bolt upright, eyes wide in fear. The vending machine had moved! Just a little, just enough for me to see the edge of a poster or notice stuck to the wall behind it. Curiosity roused I stood at the side of the vending machine and started to push. It was heavy but eventually a little more of the poster was revealed. With renewed vigour I leaned into the machine and pushed with my body weight until the machine had exposed the poster in its entirety. Hands on hips, eyes closed I panted, catching my breath. And then I opened my eyes and read the poster. Welcome to Hell.