H U R T S

The corridor was dark; shadowed with a darkness blacker than coal; the light of the sun could be devoured by this darkness, and such stars could die of it too;
But still, I found myself wandering aimlessly through - it seemed to extend forever, as if I were walking circles about the world, but I had only been walking for mere moments.
Time dragged on as if not quantified, but limitless, and my nerves felt tension, and my mind felt anger, yet I did not know why; nor could I attempt to conclude.
Seconds later, I begin to hear the voices of those who I hate so dearly; tormentors of my younger years, hurling insults like bombs, blowing each and every limb from my body of esteem.
Up, and down I looked, to find a heart to which these voices belonged, but I could not; it was just black - dark - ominous, silent.
As I grew ever closer to the end of the corridor, my throat grew drier, and so followed my skin, eyes, and even veins - I began to dry up, as if radiated by the heat of the deserts of Asia.
But there was no light; not even invisible frequencies, no Sun to cast this dry light, yet I stumbled, fell, and began to crawl to the end, I felt cold as I approached a degraded wooden door, splinters hanging off.
By now, the googolplex of harmful voices was piercing my skin, I could feel the sound of their voices impaling my flesh like icy needles, freezing my own core to a crystal ice; yet I could not scream.
In my last breaths of despiration, I reached for the door handle from the floor, trying my hardest to grab a hold of it, and I finally turned the handle and pushed the door open.
What I saw behind that door was a black, dead, dust-covered heart.