I stagger backwards, tripping over something soft on the ground. I look down to see a ratty old teddy bear. Something from my childhood that tugs at the edge of my memory. I pick up the small tattered thing and bring it up to my chest, hugging it close. It smells like home. My old home. I hear the fluttering of wings and look up, but I’m no longer in the dark alleyway. Instead, I’m in a long, narrow hallway that stretches out as far as my eyes can see. Doors line both sides. A light above flickers on and off. I clutch the bear to my chest and walk forward. I’m not sure what I’m searching for, but I think it must be this way. I follow the sound of the crow’s caw. On each side of me, the doors are marked with different symbols. A horse. A serpent. A flower. A butterfly. I keep to the center of the hall, not daring to reach out and touch any of the doors. I half expect one of them to open and reveal some chamber of horrors on the other side. I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.
