Room 417 - Brodie Macartney

Walking through the unusually bright corridor, I wrinkle my nose at the overwhelming scent of bleach. Ever since I was a kid I have hated the smell and these walls are covered in it. This hospital in particular is in dire need of a re-vamp. The wallpaper is peeling in places, paint chipped and ominous stains linger on a 'oor which tells far too many graphic tales.