There were multiple signs telling us not to go into the Palazzo Massimo. First, we couldn't find the entrance and had to walk the entire perimeter of the building. Second, the Boxer statue was on display in another museum (so the reason we were visiting was moot). Third, Anna's ticket decided not to scan to let her inside. Despite all these attempts to dissuade us from entering, we proceeded as if nothing hindered us.
Anna and I went through the hall of the ground floor, the only path you could follow, and I was immediately struck by how many heads were around. Both sides of the aisles were littered with marble heads on pedestals with tiny plaques underneath. Yet, in this part things seemed relatively normal as there were many tourists milling about, taking photographs. Then things got weird. I walked into one section that was lit darker, with only spotlights on some of the art, and stopped dead in my tracks. A figure had appeared just to my left, shrouded in darkness and completely still. It wasn't until a few seconds later that I realized it was a reflection, a poorly placed mirror in the slim hallway to the darker section. I hurried towards the other art pieces so that I would no longer have to see my reflection in shadows. In that room I soon forgot my unease because of the horoscope disc on the one side of the room. There was an inscription with the disc that told of how Augustus believed Capricorns dominated - which I have to fully support, as a completely unbiased observer. Another distraction was provided when a couple, dressed in extremely expensive and fancy clothing came into my corner. They nearly ran into the darkness of the room, giggling uproariously. To be honest, if there had been a curtain, or even just a little more shadow, separating me from them I think they would have been arrested for public indecency.
After they left and I was again wandering around looking at the art, I began to hear small sounds. They were like faint pings and chimes in the distance. Those sounds didn't belong and I could feel myself becoming tense, my chest clenching slightly as the combination of mirrors, darkness and music began to play with my mind. I walked through the rest of the first floor with Anna and then we headed up the stairs. The halls outside each floor were brightly lit and I managed to brush off a little of the unease from the first floor - laughing it off as mental tricks. The second floor had the same layout as the first. I was fine walking through at first, even making a joke about all the Apollo statues being neutered, until I passed the single most terrifying room in the museum. It was pitch black inside, but from the doorway you could see a single spotlight pointed down on a glass case in the middle of the room. Inside was a white face - a mask of a face sitting among the glass, suspended as if waiting for its owner. At that point I began to again hear little sounds in the distance (I swear, I was not hallucinating because Anna heard them too). Despite my brain knowing I was overreacting, I couldn't help my heart from beating faster and a heavy, nervous feeling from pressing on my chest.
I left the second floor and went up to the third, desperately hoping for something different. The layout was in fact very different; it was more like a labyrinth than the other floors. Every room was filled with the remains of Roman houses, and the shards were quite beautiful. I, however, could not fully enjoy them in my state of panic and fear for the sounds had returned in the background and I could hear loud, steady footsteps echoing along the halls. There were no people when I heard the footsteps, they didn't come until later in the lit area. I wandered around a little with Anna but we managed to be led into at least three dark, lonely corners that were nothing but dead ends. There were so many of these corners throughout the floor and all I could think was that there was a mastermind leading us towards a trap for slaughtering. After that thought popped into my mind even the lighted areas made my heart stutter. The light became that of an asylum cell rather than a happy refuge. I nearly sprinted out of the building with Anna, each of us hurrying as much as we could without tempting fate. Still, we almost didn't survive because the doors began to close at the exit as we approached them. I can't say I've ever sprinted faster in my life. I felt like the gates of hell were about to lock us in for eternity, and there was nothing that was going to stop me from getting through that doorway. As soon as we realized we were outside, we both immediately relaxed. The sounds of humans talking and laughing, the natural light of the afternoon sun, and the sight of even a few of those dreadful pigeons released the vice grip that had been on my chest inside the museum. The lightness of my chest made me feel infinitely more at peace, my heart rate slowing to a more normal pace again outside of those deceivingly cheerful, yellow walls.
(Palazzo Massimo, May 26)
No comments:
Post a Comment