There are thick red curtains lining all the walls of this room.  

You can see light leaking in underneath them, and in the edges.

There is a hushed silence to the room, as if there were murmoring and rustling that ceased just before you entered.

Now there is the horrible weight of anticipation.

You lick your suddenly dry lips with the realization that at any instant the curtains may rise. 

How many people are behind them, in comfortable seats with the expectation that you will DO something once you are visible.

What are they expecting? What are you supposed to do? Can you escape in time?