Gaze

I passed door after door, brushing my figertips against the walls, all cold to the touch. Nothing differentiates one door from the other, just numbers, a digit at a   time. My wonder around this place seems to have no end, i don't even know where did i start. Just a circular floor lined with doors and another above it with no stair. How long have i been here? I went on in the circle, feeling the comfort of the dust strip that cushions my finger tip from the friction with the walls.
13 streaks of white marked the old walls, scarring the dusty glaze this place shines in. Were there just 13? The sheen of grey overtook the older whites, unseen, but still noticable, by me.

Two holes bore my back, stung by cold fire. It was the gaze, the gaze that haunted me since i was here, the fiery gaze that burned my back for doing my rounds,
the gaze held by eyes of an annonymous stranger. A shudder ran down my spine again as i blinked, it was the only gesture that relieved the pain off my back. But no, i will not shut my eyes, i'm afraid of things that i don't see, things that simply aren't there. I'm afraid of the words and wishpers that lurks behind the doors,
unheard even by me. Dare i not open any? By chance I'd stumble into a reverie? My fingertip continued it's new trail on the wall.

I dare not blink, afraid of crashing into a corner in this circular hall, but tears rushed to my eyes and blurred my vision. I turned to pad the moist off my eye,
catching the glimpse of black again. The black, that black which stood in the middle of the hall, that unknown black which sends shivers down my limbs. What does it not do? Will i be harmed for taking a proper glance? My knees buckled and the trail of the finger ended, i could contain no more. My gaze broke it's trail, for once, to see.

In the middle of the hall stood a stand. I inched towards it, careful not to hurt the score in my back. Gingerly, i rose to read the scores, and listened to the notes
which told me to let...