I went in.

I got tired of watching tapes of an empty corridor. It has to go somewhere, and I wasn't going to find out sitting in the kitchen.

I've been thinking about those first evenings downstairs. I was exhausted from the work and sleeping badly. The walls were probably there all along. I don't like admitting I could have missed something that obvious, but I can't come up with a better explanation.

I put my jacket on, took the flashlight and went through the opening.

The floor was level and easy to walk on. I went slowly, watching where I put my feet and checking ahead with the light. The walls kept going straight. I didn't come to any doors or side passages.

After a while I looked at my watch. I'd been walking for nearly half an hour.

There was still nothing ahead that I could see. I turned around. The opening into the basement was a tiny pale shape, so far away I had to stand still to be sure I was looking at it.

I tried to take a deep breath and couldn't get enough air. I pulled my collar open. My jacket suddenly felt too tight across my chest, and I couldn't get my fingers to work the zipper properly.

I started back. Walked quickly at first, then broke into a run. I kept the light pointed at the floor, but my hand was shaking and the beam was jumping around. I could hear myself breathing much louder than my footsteps.

The flashlight slipped out of my hand. It hit the floor and the beam swung sideways. I started to reach for it, then looked toward the basement and kept running.

I don't remember getting through the opening very well. I scraped my hand on something. I ended up sitting on the mattress with my jacket half off, trying to get my breathing back under control.

I'm upstairs now. The flashlight is still in there.