the abandoned theatre part seven

I cross the stage and notice that the door at the other end of the stage is open. Warily I pass through the doorway and I find myself in a room with three other doors. I feel that someone was just here moments before. A lamp flickers overhead and it is light enough to read the note I have in my pocket. I dig it out, uncrinkle it and read. "I am here." The words make me feel comforted. I repeat them to myself. "I am here." It lets me know that I am alive, still above ground and breathing. A shield against time wrapping its hands around my ankles and pulling me down.

I look at the three doors: another stage door, a windowed door looking into a room with more doors. I try the handles - both unlocked. Easy to pass through. But I walk over to the other door. It is covered in some kind of carvings in a language I don't recognize, along with intricate drawings. I recognize a clock in one of the carvings. Although beautiful, the door looks old, and the handle and keyhole are rusted.

I take the key from my pocket. Nervously, I put it into the keyhole. It fits perfectly. I take a deep breath, turn the key, and open the door.