Freedom

This is another revisited piece from back in 2015. Picture from pixabay.

Freedom

Locked up like a prisoner, she cries. Dressed in nothing but pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt she lays. The blue mattress underneath not worthy of a sheet or blanket, or even a pillow. She looks down. All she can see are 10 toes. The toes have a bluish hue to them. They are cold.

She screams petrified. The people in white rush over to eliminate the danger only seen by her. They hand her a tablet. She fights them, but after a while obliges, thinking if she does something for them, that they would give her her freedom back. She feels numb. Her eyes, like the anchor from a boat waiting to dock, close.

Rude awakenings from the main man himself. She shudders at the thought of him touching her as he drags her to a room far away. She passes a lot of doors opened only by a key. Outside the safe door from whence she came, the insects are everywhere. Her feet on the tile’s cold tiles, feels them scurry between her toes. She hops to avoid them. She’s scared.  The main man makes sure she heels to his side like an animal. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asks desperately, but gets no reply.

The faraway room is covered in a sea of white. They start talking about her as if she was invisible. She looks up, noticing for the first time that she’s on a stage. Questions are fired at her. She gives the obligatory answers hoping that if they are the right ones, she could go free. It doesn’t work. When the questions cease, her answers mute, she is returned to the blue mattress. She finds that her face is wet. She’s crying. Crying over what - she doesn’t know. She sleeps.

She is jolted awake once again and is put into a tiny room in wait of someone in white to join her. Why is this happening to me? Her body trembles with fear as the door swings open. She is greeted warmly as the woman in white sits opposite her. She carries a slate grey Dell laptop and a single shiny brass key.

She hears the woman in white speak, but is unable comprehend her words. An alarm goes off. The woman in white runs from the room leaving the key and laptop on the table. She sits there frozen not knowing what to do. She knows the brass key is the red carpet to freedom. She grabs it, fumbling to open the door.

She finds herself in a corridor. She looks left, then right, hoping to find the answer as to how to get out of this maze. The insects crawl through her toes once more. She kicks them off. A beacon of light twinkles from the last door to her right. Surely this is the one to freedom!  She is captivated by the twinkling and is drawn towards it. People stare at her as she passes. She holds the shiny brass key tightly to her chest, beginning to fumble with it the closer she gets to the illuminated exit. Please work, please work, please work! She puts it in the lock. It clicks open. Oh there is a god!

She opens the door. The alarms that sound are deafening. She is petrified and doesn’t know what to do so she runs, runs away from the sound towards the light. The people in white follow her with haste. She is scared. The more frightened she becomes the faster she runs. She runs down narrow corridors until, finally, freedom.

As the natural light, something she hadn’t seen in a long time, hits her, her skin begins to prickle. She is overwhelmed at the taste of the air, and the waft of cold that hits her face.

She looks over her shoulder. The people in white are in hot pursuit. Her hair blowing in wind she heads for the gate, for freedom. Just as she gets there she is wrestled to the ground, the people in white on top of her. ‘Why?’ she screams as they lift her to her feet. She tries to thrash her way free. No sooner is she out in the air, she is confronted with the sea of doors once more. She feels a pinch on her upper right arm as she is carried back to the bare blue mattress. She looks down and sees her ten toes. They are covered in blood and dirt.  Her eyes shut, laden by the weight of the anchors again.