Jessica and Nate stood at the front of the building. It was perfectly square, with a few windows and a rather plain looking door.

     "You really need to work on your introductions, Nate", scolded their professor, standing behind them.
     "Professor, what exactly is this?" Jessica asked as she walked over to the door, running her hands down the frame.
     "This is your story, or rather, Nate's story."
     Jessica jerked her hand away from the door, visibly repulsed. The professor chuckled slightly, and advanced towards the door. Nate, oblivious to the offense, prepared himself next to the door, just walking in place.
     "So then...", Nate started, "this room is like a metaphor for my story?"
     "More of an analogy, Nate," the professor answered as he patted his pupil's head, "but close enough."

     The two students entered the room. Their professor entered after them, closing the door and bathing the room in utter blackness. The three of them couldn't see or hear anything; they could only feel the floor beneath their feet. In the darkness, Jessica, shaking, made no effort to hide her unease. "Professor!" she called out, nervous.
     "No need to be frightened, Jessica," the professor comforted her. "This is how all stories start out: in the dark."
     The professor stepped away from her and wandered deeper into the darkness, feeling around with his hands. "Now let&'s see if his the writing has any direction."
     "What's taking you guys so long?!" Nate shouted at them from afar. He sounded as though he were a hundred yards away. "I thought you were supposed to be smart, Professor!"
"You wrote the story, Nate. No one can understand this world better than you." The professor's grasping hands finally found their way to a railing. "Come, Jessica. I think I know where this story is going."

     In the darkness, Jessica pulled herself forward, one hand on the railing, the other pointed in front of her to guard against any surprise walls that might jump out at her. She started to move faster, noting that the room stank of sweat, blood, and flatulence. Typical guy story, she thought to herself. She hated this room, this story, and she wanted to get through it as fast as possible. Her thoughts were interrupted when she cried out in pain, having stubbed her toe on a half-buried stone jutting from the ground.
     "I'm sorry, Jessica, I really should have warned you about that," the professor called back. "There's tons of those scattered about here."
     "Hurry up, slowpokes!" Nate bellowed from the other end of the room.
     "It's not our fault your story is riddled with grammatical errors slowing us down!" Jessica huffed, "I mean, really? 'He then run outside'? REALLY?!"
     "Get over it over it, grammar Nazi!" Nate laughed back at her.
     "Both of you quit, and get back to the story," the professor snapped. Jessica did one of those closed-mouth screams.

     The professor had let Jessica take the lead because he felt she was relying too much on him to get her through it all. Jessica could feel the flimsy railing guiding them start to wobble. It was even starting to rust away as they walked.
     "We're nearing the end, Jessica," the professor commented.
     She breathed a sigh of relief. After a few more steps, the railing broke off in her hand, and she found herself standing next to Nate. She could just barely see him in the dark; she realized that at some point in the past few minutes, the area had become just a bit brighter.
     "Alright. The end. Can we leave now?" she asked.
     "Not so fast, Jessica" the professor said, continuing to walk. He was moving in all directions, feeling around the walls. "We still need to find the meaning -- what the author was actually trying to tell us."
     Jessica let out a groan, another expression of impatience that Nate failed to notice. She began to mimic the professor, feeling around the wall for some sort of switch, something that would bring a new light to the whole story, so that its two readers could see it for what it really was. After ten minutes of fruitless searching, Jessica found a lightswitch. She flipped it, bathing the room in light.
     The room was empty. was empty.
     "I get it, Professor! There was no point! He's just a stupid boy writing a stupid boy story!"