The Box - A Short Story Of Sorts!

in writing •  19 days ago  (edited)

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The Box

I have spend hours stretching my arms out, moving each finger on my hand, rolling my wrists and my ankles, whilst all the time trying to keep my fear at bay.

I have become so fearful that my body will seize up, if I do not keep moving it. So my time is spend rolling my shoulders, rolling my stomach, (yes that is a thing) and rotating my arm at my elbow. I can not stand up and I sure as hell can not rotate my whole arm, so I focus on the things that I can move. I exercise my face muscles regularly and I try my best to push away those thoughts of despair, that constantly bombard me.

There are air holes in my box, so breathing is not a problem, not anymore. When I first woke up inside here, I panicked and was convinced that I would suffocate. My breathing was so rapid and my heart was beating so fast, that I believed, death was imminent. And after that panic, I experienced a sense of calm, because lets face it, being dead was sure as hell better than being in here.

So with that calm, my breathing slowed down, along with my heart. I was finally able to take in my surroundings. Yes, I was in a box, a box large enough that I could stretch my arms out until my wrists hit the side. But not tall enough that I could stand. I could kneel though and there were holes of various sizes, enough for me to breathe through and to be feed through. At the bottom was a hole with a tube attached. This was what I took to be my toilet.

The box was made of wood and no matter how hard I kicked or slammed my body against it, it did not give. Those first few days, I was covered in bruises, my whole body ached and my mind screamed at me to keep finding a way out, to keep fighting.

But I soon found myself getting weak and I was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness. If I was to get out of here , I had to be aware, I had to be awake and I had to be whole. So, after 5 days I stopped using my body as a ramming tool and I decided to use my brain instead. I decided, I needed to listen and observe.

Different people, would come in at various times of the day. None of them would speak to me and all of them had their faces covered. I as delivered food and water, 3 times a day and every morning some one came in with 8 sheets of toilet paper for me to use. I soon gave up asking for a whole roll. Although it puzzled me why they would not give me one, were these people environmentally aware or something. That thought was enough to make me laugh out loud and once I did, I found I could not stop.

Laughter brought me a release, it was like opening a tap to my emotions and damn it, but I was over flowing.

So let them think that I was breaking, let them think whatever the hell they wanted to.

8 Pillars of TribeSteemUp


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Wow, scary and intriguing. Is there going to be a continuation?

Posted using Partiko Android

I think that there may be, thanks @stortebeker xx

I really hope that there is a happy ending @trucklife-family.

I hope so too @angiemitchell xx