Alone
He wakes up. He doesnt know where he is. He doesnt know how he got there. He doesnt know why he is there. He looks for a sign of someone.. anyone.. anything. There is no one. Is he a ghost? Does he exsist? Is this real or is this a dream?
All he spots is a dresser sitting on the far right side of the room. He is on a mattress, with golden silk sheets. The floors are hard wood and the walls are white covered with elegant designs of ships sailing at the bottom. The floors shine as if they were recently polished.
He gets up, as if there is anything else he could do. He approaches a door he hasnt noticed before, but gets a bit dizzy. He takes a deep breath, after feeling a bit nautious, and grabs the bronze handle of the rich heart filled door.
The door reveals a long hallway full of elegant walls of green and black decorated patterns. The chandeliers on the ceiling glow over shining armor and mantle pieces scattered throughout the hallway. He slowly makes his way out of the room, wondering where he is.
He looks in a few rooms, but all of them are the same. One dresser. One bed. One door. He walks to the edge of the hallway to find another hallway, covered with doors. Worried, he continues down the hallway until he finally reaches a gray door, chipped a little with one small piece of grass growing from the bottom. He grabs the dusty handle and turns it with a creak. The door shivers open.
He emerges from the light filled hallway to find a garden of peace and solitude. Flowers scatter across stone pillars miles high. Streams of water trinkle down intricate paths and up walls made of stone and marble. Angels of limestone seem to guard the silent, everlasting paradise. Large diamond shaped stone float in the air, or so it seemed. Vines covered every inch of them, carrying them through the small spots of light drowning out the darkness from above. Where was the light coming from? He did not know, but the speckles of light floated downwards in a hypnotizing flow, almost as if they were coming from the heavens themselves.
He continues walking into this strange world, pasthalf broken statues and stonework. Gates of iron ahead welcome him further. He walks past them, into a maze of hedges. Trotting for minutes leads the man out of the hedges and into a large body of water, held inside of a large fountain. He walks around it, noticing that he is the only thing that had any breath of life in him. Ironically, the objects around him honored him with their presence. Their dead like aroma provided a strange, exotic like atmosphere. Beautiful to his eyes, he gazed further down this never ending chamber. Past the large fountain lay a large gate, surrounded by green and grey.
He walks. And he walks. Finally, he reaches the gate and ascends upwards on the steps. He gets to the top of the staircase and pushes open the rusty door to find another wooden door behind it. He looks at it strangely, and grabs the handle. Behind it is a bright white light, glowing with a fierce intensity. Without free will, the light pulls him in hypnotically.
The world around him blurs into nothingness. The garden disappears. The grey and green turn into a pitch black. Nothing is there, except for his own heart beat. He opens his eyes, to see his room in the cabin he has been living in for the past two years. The picture of him and his daughter rests upon the dresser next to him. Outside the snow covers the land. He thinks he hears something in his quiet home, but he knows all to well that he is alone. Alone in his own secret garden, where no one can ever find him.
The Story WIP 
The Secret Garden 