The next room was a real prison cell. Beyond the open door was a grillwork of metal bars that swung freely open. Inside were more bars and a single window high above an open toilet. Graffiti in spray paint and magic markers covered the walls. The cell had a real lock and pairs of handcuffs hanging from one wall. There was a single bed and it was empty. Loose plaster dusted the floor. Several holes appeared in the wall’s baseboard as if someone had tried to dig his way out or a rat was boring his way in. The room was empty, chilling in its openness. The silence took on character. I couldn’t stay much longer than the few minutes it took to survey the scene. I stepped back toward the door and eased it shut. Then I heard a sound like someone crying. I looked inside again. The crying became louder, then short of breath and rapid like the breather was mounting or straining against a difficult obstacle. I could see nothing. Then the chill of silence. I closed the door and walked to the last room on the hall. The moaning continued in my mind.

The last room was decorated like a college dorm room, complete with a plaid bedspread on the single bed and football pennants tacked to the wall. Light came from a desk lamp. Textbooks lay open on the wooden desk. Next to the desk and bed was a small bookcase with notebooks and papers piled loosely on the top and bottom shelves. On the desk was an empty picture frame for stills of Mom and Dad and the family dog. I walked further into the room. The place was warm and inviting. It was as if I had actually been in that space before. I looked through the papers and books. I tested the bed, then lay down. From the hall light filling the open door, I saw a figure come toward me and stop. It was Clementine. How long he had been following me, I couldn’t tell. But I felt more at ease, relaxed. He didn’t enter. The light blocked a clear view of his face, but I felt him smiling, laughing.

“I see you found yours, huh, Jesse?”

“My what?”

“Fantasy Room.”

“I thought this was Paradise.”

“That’s what they all think—”

“That paradise is fantasy, you mean, or is it the other way around?”

“Yes, until it comes true.”

“Then it’s no longer fantasy, right?”

“You see the real horror of it.”

“How do I get out of here, Clementine?” I asked. I wasn’t even alarmed. This room seemed so much safer than the others. So much like something I already knew.

“When the time comes, you’ll leave.”

I was already getting sleepy on the bed. “When’s that?” I said drowsily.

“Good night, Jesse,” he said.

“You’re going?”

“You found yours. Now I’m going to get mine, like I do every Wednesday when I don’t have people like you to look after. Shit, they should put me on the payroll.”