I smell dying beetles...

I don't know. It's not easy to say what's happening inside here where I am. The door is locked and on the outside I hear them screaming... under the door, the crack of light I see ten piles of oranges. The smell rises up into me of dying beetles....
Where am I? Lost inside -
Drag my fingernails along the ground. A cold pavement. Gravel. Bleeding. Is this it? the place where you have taken.... me.... taken. Am I to go now through the crack in the door 'drink me' shrink small? is that it? my name is not Alice sir!