“These hallucinations were intense,” she said finally. “They were too realistic. I feared for my fuckin’ life. At one point, and this is the hardest and weirdest thing to admit, the walls reached out and tried to grab me.” She clutched at the sleeve of her flannel shirt, squeezing it hard, mimicking the wall’s movement. “It tried to pull me in. It scared me enough that I collapsed, crying into the first pair of arms I found. I needed a hug, and thankfully, I got one.” There were more chuckles this time as she spoke the last line. Sheela knew it was a reflex action, but hated the room all the same. How could they know the fear and fuckin’ emptiness she’d felt, running through a seemingly never-ending stairwell hell-bent on consuming her. “I guess my question is,” she continued, “has anyone
