When you don’t have anything else, darkness is quick to become your friend. Devoid of all of my senses, I had no idea just how large, or how small the room I’d found myself in was. My only assurance that I still even existed being the feeling of my feet on the floor, nothing to hear, nothing to smell, nothing to see. I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face if I wanted to.

I tried walking, tried finding anything in this place that could help me even a little bit, but I couldn’t even find where this room ended, let alone supplies of any kind. With nothing to entertain myself, and no way to track the time, every passing second feels like an eternity.

Hopelessness sets in rather quickly. This place, whatever it is, will be my tomb. But with that realization comes something else. A feeling of melancholy, contentment maybe. When you live in darkness, when you live devoid of any outside sensations, the only difference between life and death is the feeling of the ground beneath your feet. That thought is freeing.