The fifth floor hallway is as beautiful as the lobby, tastefully decorated with fine rugs and paintings. I step away from the elevator and make my way to the first door. It looks like it is made from oak and has a golden ‘X’ on it: Room 10. I scan the keys and find the correct one.

Apprehension clutches me in its grasp, but curiosity beckons me forward. I open the door and find a playground filled with little children whose laughter could sway even the coldest of hearts. I see swing sets decorated to mimic a rainbow and carousels that remind me of my days at Gold Reef City, and an ice-cream parlour swarming with children. What is this place? I think to myself. Why would anyone sleep in a place like this?

I notice a tall old man walk into the park. The black of his beard is speckled with age. He is gently holding the hand of a little girl who looks eerily familiar.

“Come, Melissa,” the man says, “we’re going to be late for church.”

“But, but, Daddy, you said you would push me a few times before we go,” she says, “Please, Daddy…”

The man lifts the little girl and puts her on a swing. He pushes her a few times. Not too high but enough to make her whoop with excitement. The man’s gentleness reminds me of my own father. Hands strong enough to push our car out of the driveway, but soft enough to toss his little girl into the air without harm. The kindest man to have walked this earth before life robbed me of him.

A sudden shiver passes through me. When did it become so cold?

I turn back to ensure that the door is still open behind me, but when my gaze returns to the room, the man and the girl are no longer at the swing but standing deathly silent before me.

“Hi ma’am,” the little girl says, her hand outstretched, “would you like my daddy to push you on the swing?”

I turn to look at the door and find that it is slowly closing as if being pushed by an imperceptible hand.

“Remember, once the door closes, you cannot choose a different room.” Mr Val’s words ring in my mind.

The little girl’s hair blows in the wind, her hand still extended, waiting for me to take it. I see her father’s face burning with sadness. His eyes unmoving, no words escape his mouth as I turn away and walk towards the door. It closes behind me as I find myself back in the hallway.

Tell us: What do you think Room 10 represents or means?