Serenity
The wind howls behind you. Cold, shivering down to the bone, you step through a door. It's an old, wooden door, with matte white paint starting to peel off. Everything behind you seems to fade away as your attention is brought to the warm, still air. You close the door behind you, as not to let in any wind.
The chaos of your endeavors fade away, bringing your life back to your soul, warming from the heart. Nothing is chasing you anymore; you are completely alone.
The curtains gently rustle, blowing from the breeze through the window. Only a pure glow comes from it, and it's slightly ajar. The light presses down on your skin, and you start feeling it once again. Your numbness fades away, in every sense. A tear trickles down your face. All the pressure has caught up to you.
You rest your back on the wall, then as you feel the soft, fuzzy green carpet, you slide down, to lay on the floor. It's not damp, not even musty. Just soft. The odor of a recently ran vacuum starts to fill the room, something that reminds you of where you used to live with your parents.
Your eyelids grow heavy, and your breathing slows. In this quiet, serene room, you drift off, finally at peace.
You wake up, and decide it's time to leave. No matter how soft the light is, you only have so much food and water, and there is only so much time. Picking yourself up, you lean on the autumn wallpaper, and gently slide up. You make the pace to the door.
As you open the door to see what lies before you, your heart stops.
A bright glow shining through white curtains, fuzzy green carpet, and that same autumn wallpaper.