The Angel's Song

Prisoner

I listen for the noise outside my cell, nothing. It is completely silent, deafening to my ears. In the darkness I can make out the faint lines of the room. Empty as my stomach, the room is dingy and cramped.

I have tried to keep the room as sanitary as I can manage yet there is a puddle of waste in the far corner next to the door. The foul stench it emits, reminds me of the last time those monsters were here. Holding pee for hours was worth it when they grabbed me and I urinated all over them. Their faces twisted in repulsion was priceless. If it were not for the consequences, I would do it again.

I had hoped that they would be disgusted enough that they would leave me alone. The guards hit me on the head hard enough that it drew blood from my scalp, and kicked me until I vomited the remains of my minuscule diet.

The tests they perform on me and the rest of the prisoners in the penitentiary had almost killed me that time. I am not sure how long it has been, but they seem to return every two sleep cycles. With no windows, it is hard to keep track of how long I have been here.

Blood trickles slowly down my face from the wound and I weakly mop it up with my stringy hair. Showers? I barely remember what is was like to be clean. I am a disgusting, greasy and rank mess. I have been locked up for about four years, keeping track was difficult because when you first get here, they basically strip you down to your birthday suit and hand you the bloody rags from the last prisoner who dwelled in your cell. They kidnap you, wipe your memory clean and lock you up with nothing. I am glad they took my memory, I have nothing to miss, nothing to wish for.

I guess their purpose for capturing us is to test our means of survival. The last test I had I failed, because I lived. My first test was a test of strength, I was surprised when they gave us a whole bottle of water to drink before sending us up tall poles with tiny notches imbedded in the wood. Those who didn't climb, where torn mercilessly apart by the guard's hounds. I was stronger and hopeful back then. I thought that if I did what they told me, they would give me my memory and set me free.

They left us hanging on those poles for hours, with hungry dogs barking at our heels. It was unfortunate that some prisoners with more than enough energy to stay up there, collapsed because the dogs were able to chew through the wood and topple the totem down. A few even tried to fight them off, but they were no match for the starving pooches. After they finally called off the hounds, they permitted the few that were left to get down. We were so weak, that some even died before they hit the ground.

"Well that was easy" I had thought to myself. Little did I know that they would just throw us back in those foul cells again. Secluded from all proper human interaction. Sometimes I could hear the screams of the unfortunate ones in the middle of the night. I would just curl back into a ball, cowering in the corner of the room. Yet I don't hate life.

Hate is a strong word, a word for something worse to come. The worst has not come yet.

Each test grew more challenging and dangerous as time went on. Those who died were swiftly replaced by fresh, hopeful faces. I could only hope that I wouldn't die so no more poor souls were brought here. At least my reasons to live were righteous. My current physical condition seemed fitting, considering the circumstances.

My stomach growls like the most unholy creature on this earth. When was the last time they had tossed gruel through the tiny slit in the wall? I glanced in the direction, and I immediately lost appetite for food. Down the hall was a thudding sound I recognized as footsteps. Long, heavy strides. Not the quick, light footfalls of the boy who is sent with food. The ominous thudding of their feet marched in union.

Please keep going, PLEASE DON'T STOP!!

I should feel bad for wishing possible death on everyone in my wing, but this was a matter IF I would live to come back. Anxiety gurgles into my veins. Darkness pulses in and out of my vision in sync with my heart. My eyes dart to the door of my cell as I hear the grinding of the rusted gears screech in anguish.

Every beat of my heart feels like an earthquake in my starved body. The trembles going faster every millisecond as I sit in my filthy corner. The door creaks open, another test, NO, PLEASE NO!

Dozens of guards flock in carrying chains, meant to transport me to my grave. Their dark green uniforms are splattered with blood, probably from the last victim they dragged in. I am stronger than I look, they learned the first time because they waste no time getting the restraints on me. I fight till my mouth is foaming with froth and my body is bruised all over. God, help me please, they brought the stick... I screech and kick but it all is for nothing when they stab the stick in my gut. My whole body explodes in pain as the electrical current wrecks havoc through me.

"Kill me now, just kill me" I repeatedly whisper until my consciousness fades to darkness.