Prisoner

[literarycat]

** Wrote this in a creative writing course in college, it's not entirely finished. **

Years have gone by that I have been trapped within this dark prison. How I got here, I don't know. All that is around me is cold damp brick. The only source of light I have is a tiny hole in the wall that serves as my window to the beauty of the outside world. I am forever alone with my maddening thoughts. I attempt to focus my dreams on the forest in the distance. What kind of animals live there? Is there a town beyond it, my town? How did I get here? Who put me here, and why? The sounds of the rats darting around in the shadows make me shiver and cringe. The only freedom is the chatter of the birds outside though they never come to my tiny window. Each day my abductor comes to speak to me, but I am unable to understand what is said or whether it's male or female. I have never seen the one who keeps me here as their face is always covered by a black mask. I wonder who or what is behind that mask

I look down at my arms and legs only to find they are bruised and and tattered. They are covered in caked on blood. Most likely from years of living in this dreadful prison. My hair is no longer the soft blonde locks I vaguely remember them to be. Now it feels like bailing twine and scratches at my face. My clothes look as if I have been mauled by a bear, dirty, bedraggled and covered in blood. I can’t remember when was the last time I took a nice hot shower. I close my eyes in attempts to remember what it was like before I was imprisoned, yet to my dismay my memories are long gone. Each time I cry out in anguish, I hear the gruff guffaw of the guard outside. The heavy footsteps of the massive guard is my only means of time. He comes at dawn, noon, and night, how long he stays I am uncertain. I wonder if he is the one whispering things through the dark. “You’ll never leave. You will forever be in this prison. No one cares enough to rescue you.”

Each day I spend looking for a way out. Just when it seems as though I may be able to be free, I am thrust back into reality after waking from yet another dream. After an innumerable amount of years, I finally saw my chance of freedom. After being fed my daily meal of indistinguishable mush, I realized the clank of the latch never occurred. My ever watchful guard had make a mistake. A piece of the rock wall tumbles as I move to open the door, frightening me. I scurried back to my corner in fear I was heard. After what seemed like hours I gathered enough strength to attempt my escape once again

I dashed out the door before the guard realized his mistake. The longer I explored this labyrinth of a prison the more familiar it felt. Though I feel as if I know this place, every turn is a new surprise yet feeling as if I am walking in my own home. I desperately want to cry out in frustration, but fear I would be heard and thrown back to my cell. As I rounded a new corner I come to the door. This is it! I have found the way out! Finally I am free.

I reach out for the door, just as the door opens and the I feel the warmth of the sun on my scarred face for the first time, a skeletal hand grabs my shoulder and swings me around. The kid-napper! Whoever it is grabs my arms so tight I can’t move, it stares at me with deep dark eyes, nothing but blackness. I try to wiggle free, in order to fight but it’s futile. I cling to the door edge as I am being dragged back to my dingy cell. As the kidnapper throws me around into the cell, I grab it’s mask and tear it away. My throat lets out a gasp as I realize the face staring back at me is...myself.

[HomeworkHelp]

I read your story, its little interesting.

[vickimess]

This is very weird..would like to hear more though!

[DATo]

My first impression when I read the story suggested a severe case of the mental disorder known as agoraphobia in which the subject, in this particular case, is subconsciously terrorized by the thought of having to leave the environment within the walls of her own home. She creates the illusion of being held captive to justify her refusal to leave the place where she lives.

I don't know if I am on the right trial though.

[AlishaKennedy]

I love this short story! The overall impression I got is that it's a metaphor for trying to escape our own minds, although I'm not sure if that's what you were going for. I would love to hear more!