I wake slowly to the same four white walls that always greet me. I slowly rub my eyes to wipe away the sleep and glance over at the window. Sunlight slips into the room through the small window of my tiny little prison. It hurts my eyes to look at the sunlight, but after spending so long in such a dim place, I can’t help but stare at its blinding light. It reminds me that there is a world outside these four walls that trap me and in the gloominess of the room; its light offers me some hope. I don’t know where I am. I feel like a bird that has been stripped of its freedom and shoved into a cage, trapped with no way out. I can’t remember when I came here; it feels like a whole lifetime has passed. Even worse, I can’t remember anything about myself. Who I am, how old I am, what I did for a living…it is all gone. I try to remember, but every time I do, I am hit with an unusual feeling in my stomach and my head spins. It’s as if my body doesn’t want me to remember. The small room offers me no comfort; there is only a bed, a door that is almost always locked and a window which is barricaded. Some days, I feel like I’m being suffocated, there is barely enough space to breathe. My limbs are heavy, my body still craves sleep but no matter how tired I am, I don’t go to sleep. I can’t go to sleep. The same dream haunts me every time I close my eyes, leaving me restless and agitated when I wake up. Recently, it has been worsening. Now, the vision doesn’t just come in my sleep, I see it during the day too. I don’t know what it means; maybe it means that I’m just going crazy. I keep seeing a man strapped onto a table, blue eyes wide with fear. His voice is raspy, like he had been screaming for too long, and the same words always escape his ... ... middle of paper ... ...age. The rustle of fabric and footsteps draws my eyes to the shadows. There is another presence in the room, hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit room. I can see the outline of a body moving around, safe in the darkness, until another step brings them out from the darkness and into the light. It is me. My fingers are curled around a sharp knife and I watch in horror as my mirror image makes a deep incision into my brother’s skin. Then, a small bomb the exact size of a pacemaker is suddenly in my hands and I am slipping it into my brother. He is screaming now, tears running down his face, his words breathless. “Help me…please help me…” My mirror image stitches the ticking bomb inside him and then steps back into the shadows. I can move again, the ice freezing my muscles melting, and I try to reach out. He explodes and I wake to the sound of my own scream.
The poem ‘High windows’ symbolises the transparency of life but there is still a physical and psychological barrier to life outside the ‘windows’ that we are unable to comprehend. As the windows creates a mood of reflection, that in fact the glass can be interpret as a mirror, rather than barrier but a reflection of our understanding of what life lies ahead. As it starts within us, as the thought of looking through the ‘high windows’ for meaning is impossible as the ‘sun-comprehending glass’, the sun sends a beam of light
I broke away from the man’s grasp, scraping my arm upon his sharp beard and watching my feet take turns hitting the ground as the distance between he and myself grew greater. Scout’s hand was no longer in mine and I crawled frantically on the ground before I felt her ham costume. I pulled her to her feet but was thrust backwards slipping from her grasp again. I felt an agonising pain, shoot through my left arm that was accompanied by an ear-piercing CRACK. My head smashed into a tree root and the night faded even further to black. The next few moments felt like mere seconds. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I identified the silhouette of a lanky man. He freed Scout from the clutches of our attacker and thrust a knife between the man’s ribs, sending him collapsing lifelessly to the
Apprehension and curiosity enveloped me as I walked down Keeter hill to my new home for the year, Memorial Room 201. As I attempted to navigate the unfamiliar hallways filled with unfamiliar scents and faces, one thought consumed my brain, “When can I escape and go back home?” Unlocking the door to my new home, I stepped inside, instantly dropping my luggage in shock. The room seemed equal in size to a parking space. I had yet to figure out how I would share a room this size with another person, who I had yet to meet.
Sunlight seeps through the gap between the curtains and falls upon my eyes. The birds outside the window sing their sweet melodic tune and I sigh at the peacefulness of it all. Although the curse The Kindly Ones bestowed upon us has been broken for over a month now, I still, along with everyone else in the kingdom, smile with delight when the radiant heat of the fire that hangs in the sky like a Hermetic lamp, hits my face. I roll over and find Lux still deep in his dreams. As I watch the rise and fall of his chest, I realize how simple and tranquil my life is now.
I hurt everywhere. I try to slowly open my eyes but it is so hard, the blinding light hurts my head, I slowly peel my eyes open to find myself in a strange bathroom. Everything is old and dirty looking and I don’t mean dirty like “when my mom told me to clean my bathroom and there was only a ponytail on the sink and a few boy pins, dirty,” I mean it looked as if nobody had cleaned this bathroom in 15 years and still people used it. Once I establish myself, my eyes begin to wander, I am in a stained tub with all of my clothes still on me.
I stumbled over to the window, chuckling darkly to myself all the while. Looking out at the sky, I noticed it was already dusk. Where had the time gone? The day had been wasted in this confining room.
On my hospital bed, I sit and stretch out my arms to relieve some nervous tension. My room is nothing but dull grey walls and the smell of disinfectant. My ears perk up as I listen to doctors and nurses conversing outside. Their voices grow louder and louder as I hear their feet coming closer to my door. I crane my neck towards sounds, only to spot the brass knob of my door turning. My heart begins to race and my breathing becomes shallower. I quickly pull out a pocketknife from under my pillow and slip it into my pants pocket. Stealthily, I roll out of bed, forgetting about the various tubes attached to my body. I wince in pain and tears well up in my eyes as they get yanked ou...
The last hour I had spent preparing for this moment, because deep down I seemed to know that my family would never leave the hospital alive. Still, the words hit me at full force, and I feel my breathing quicken and heartbeat pick up as my eyes dart around the room. My pulse pounds in my temple as if I just ran a mile, and the doctor is trying to get me to calm down, but the room is spinning and inky blackness edges into the corner of my vision. My legs feel weak and shaky as I succumb to the horribleness of it all.
11:14 p.m.-I slowly ascend from my small wooden chair, and throw another blank sheet of paper on the already covered desk as I make my way to the door. Almost instantaneously I feel wiped of all energy and for a brief second that small bed, which I often complain of, looks homey and very welcoming. I shrug off the tiredness and sluggishly drag my feet behind me those few brief steps. Eyes blurry from weariness, I focus on a now bare area of my door which had previously been covered by a picture of something that was once funny or memorable, but now I can't seem to remember what it was. Either way, it's gone now and with pathetic intentions of finishing my homework I go to close the door. I take a peek down the hall just to assure myself one final time that there is nothing I would rather be doing and when there is nothing worth investigating, aside from a few laughs a couple rooms down, I continue to shut the door.
I awoke, frightened and alone, with a monster standing beside my bed. Although my body was paralyzed with fear, my mind was awake, trying to figure out how this hideous creature could have found me. As I gazed into the hypnotizing, dark eyes of this giant, the room altered, and I found myself, once again, in the basement of my father’s house. Surrounded with medical equipment, a rush of adrenaline pulsed through my tired body, forcing it awake. The monster walked slowly through the room, dragging his long, boney finger along the table. I remembered this basement very well, as I spent a great deal of time occupying it; however, there was something different, something was missing, something had changed. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Before I could spot the difference, an odd aroma began filling the air, making it somewhat difficult to breathe. Once again I found myself spinning, falling through a dark tunnel with no sense of direction or time, I closed my eyes tightly. Whenever the spinning sensation concluded, I opened my eyes. The aroma was stronger here, forcing tears out of my eyes and my dinner back up my throat. I knew exactly where I was…
At the end of my mat was the other end of the cell. The wall hovered over me like a tall, ominous castle. Small blocks protruded from beneath the thick, smooth paint and stared at me. A long, thin ray of light replicated the thin, long, dirty piece of glass that was probably trying to mimic a window. It was about three inches wide and a good meter in length. Sometimes, I stare out that window at the world outside, at the people walking freely on the streets two stories below. I wonder if they appreciate the freedom they have. I wonder if they appreciate the smell of the air. I wonder if they appreciate the nice, big windows they look through when they go home. Home. I wonder if they appreciate home. I know I didn't before. No. I didn't appreciate any of that; at least not the way I will when I can have them again.
Inside the nicely decorated room with taupe walls just the perfect hint of beige, lie colorful accessories with incredible stories waiting to be told. A spotless, uninteresting window hangs at the end of the room. Like a silent watchman observing all the mysterious characteristics of the area. The sheer white curtains cascade silently in the dim lethargic room. In the presence of this commotion, a sleepy, dormant, charming room sits waiting to be discovered. Just beyond the slightly pollen and dust laden screens, the sun struggles to peak around the edges of the darkness to cast a bright, enthusiastic beam of light into the world that lies beyond the spotless double panes of glass. Daylight casts a dazzling light on the various trees and flowers in the woods. The leaves of fall, showcasing colors of orange, red, and mustard radiate from the gold inviting sunshine on a cool fall day. A wonderful world comes to life outside the porthole. Colossal colors littered with, abundant number of birds preparing themselves for the long awaited venture south, and an old toad in search of the perfect log to fall asleep in for the winter.
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
As I sat up straight from the cold metal table I wondered who I was, where I was, why was I here. As all these thoughts raced through my mind I seen a small human backed into the corner of a weird looking room. The room had glass looking bottles, straps on tables, and tubes of all kinds. The man had a small white coat on and black slicked back hair. When I got up off the table a strange noise came out of my mouth. The man ran away in horror screaming and yelling at the tops of his lungs. I tried to follow him, but I kept stumbling over everything. When I seen my own reflection I realized why he ran from me. I was the most gruesome person in all the land. I was petrified by my own looks. I was made up of dead limbs, my eyes were disgusting,
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.