The walls moved. It was the first thing I noticed. When I slept, they changed positions. No one seemed bothered by this. Those born here acted as if was normal. Those trapped as I just shrugged it off. Of course the walls moved. This was the madness of the barriers between worlds. What did one expect? And really, moving walls wasn’t that strange was it? I’d adapt they said.
During the waking time, we wander to find food in this darkness. At night, we settle in one spot and hope we’re all together when we wake. Parents hold children so they are not lost. It is a way of life. Not a good way, but a way. Not for me. Moving walls or not, I was getting out. No labyrinth would hold me. Yet Lydia is so lovely.
There are no days or nights here. Only darkness. I can’t tell how long its been. Months? Years? Lydia is with child. I can’t allow my child to be born and grow up here. My child deserves better than madness and darkness, but if I leave to find a way out I might never see them again. So I too shall adapt. Moving walls aren’t that strange I guess.