Charles slowly opened his eyes and he tried to recognize where he was. As he glanced around the dim room, he saw a window and sleepily walked up to open it. Light sprawled across the dark wood floor, dust particles now visible to the boy. For Charles, waking up in a freezing, dark room was new, though he doubted it would be a recurring experience for anyone. He peered out the window, hoping to find an answer or a hint of where he might be. As Charles stood at the windowsill, he took a long and deep breath, a steady sigh. As soon as gained back his fully awake mind, questions flooded his brain. Where was he? How’d he get there? What the hell is going on? He went through the questions one by one. Where was he? Charles decided he’s still figuring that out. How’d he get here? He groaned, he didn’t know the answer to that either. And what the hell is going on? Ultimately, Charles decided he’d find out eventually. But for now, he decided it was best to keep imagining himself as Repunzal because that’s what he felt like. Charles wanted to look around, so he started walking, around the bed, holding onto nearby walls so he wouldn’t fall. Click. The light switch was found by Charles’ fingers. The light flashed on, exposing the mysterious room as a simple bedroom, two bookshelves parallel from each other across the room. A small paint bucket could be found on the shelf over the bed, along with it was a large paintbrush, though, around the room there were two more paint buckets, the other two hiding in the corner of the room next to the thin, dark brown, intricate door. Now Charles was fully convinced he was a male Repunzal. The three colors of the paints were the primary colors, as expected of them. Slowly, Charles picked up the paintbrush and dabbed it in the yellow, painted the ground some, then dried off the brush and did the same to the blue. He decided to make an easy color, green. He went for a lighter shade of green so using more yellow than blue. He mixed the two colors together and made a decent amount of the light green. The green he made was the color of the grass on a hot summer day, but a bit lighter, almost as bright as the green on a stoplight, that neon, almost radioactive green. Charles dabbed the paintbrush into the radioactive but pastel green in front of him before hesitantly painting the bottom of the wall next to him, painting around the window. When Charles finished the wall he snapped out of the somewhat trance he had been in. He sat on the thick windowsill, the sun shining down on him, he felt the warmth spread throughout his body as he was getting sucked into the feeling of the sun against him. It was intoxicating, the sun, this feeling, being where he was. He needs to get out. He took a quick glance around the spacious room, looking for the door. The door was very intricate, small designs etched into the dark oak wood. He turned the circular door nob. It didn’t go farther than halfway around. It was locked. Charles groaned. It locked from outside of the room, he needed to get out. Where was he anyway? It’s not like he would fine out anytime soon. Politely, he started knocking on the door but after a while of no response, Charles resorted to pounding on the large oak door. What the hell was going on? He needed to find a way out, a way to get back to civilization. Charles closed his eyes to scavenge through this memories, to the last thing he remembered. But after a moment… poof. He didn’t have any. “How is this possible? Where was I before? Where am I now?” He was in a slight predicament to say the least. Charles looked back to his earlier painting, literally watching paint dry would be his only entertainment for the next couple hours, days even. Three grueling days later and Charles was getting paranoid. The morning sun was shining brightly on Charles’ tan skin. For a quick second, he caught a glimpse of the sun and quickly looked away, his pupils widening over his hazel eyes, the same color as a tree in the fall, orange, yellow, and green leaves dancing in the wind before meeting the ground beautifully. Charles decided to do his own thing. He stood as far back from the door as he could then charged at it. Full speed, no stopping. “Crap!” Charles yelled in pain, but thankfully, the door was broken down, unfortunately Charles went with it. Being able to get out of the spacious was heaven to Charles. He needed somewhere else to go, someone else to talk to. There was a long, circular creepily illuminated hallway with a dark blue flowery wallpaper. He did followed the left path, walking down wooden boards, each letting out a squeak. He could see his breath in the freezing cold air, he could feel his skin adjusting to the coolness. “Hello,” A deep voice from behind him speaks up after just a few steps in the circle. “Charles.” ——————————to be continued—————————— I know this is a poem starter and I just figured that out :,)