“Who are you?!” My voice felt raw as I screamed for what had felt like the thousandth time. Where ever I was, was pitch black and lacked any light. The space itself seemed to be a confined one, giving me only enough room to stand. Once again I screamed asking for help. Pleading with whoever could hear me. “Please. Let me go!” I didn't know how I got there. It was a mystery. And now I was spiraling into my own perpetual darkness and feeling of hopelessness. I gave an audible sigh of defeat.
However as soon as the puff of air escaped my mouth, the space began to shake. It felt as if the space was rising. Overhead I could hear a creaking noise, of rusty chains being strained with the weight of the box I was in. I rotated my wrists to feel the walls once more. They were slick, almost like waxed flooring tiles. However I felt no creases or marks across it. It was as if it was one giant piece with a space carved into it.
I rested my head against the slick wall, leaning as far as I could forward with my little space. It was so tight, I couldn't even raise my arms, and they were stuck at my sides. Then the rumbling increased and the entire space shook. Then it was still and the whirring noise above my head ceased.
“Remember Ashton.” A faint voice in the back of my head called out my name through the endless darkness. Ashton, my name was Ashton. I squeezed my eyes shut, well I think I did, and tried to concentrate as the voice repeated it's command again. “Remember Ashton.”
Then something hit me. Like a jolt of electricity to the brain. And with a flash of white light inside my head, something bubbled to the surface from the depths of my subconscious.
I was suddenly a kid again, and I was sitting in the middle of a classroom. Where was I? 7th grade! In Mrs. Morgan’s class. But why was I remembering this?
“Psst, pass this onto Donnie.” A girl in front of me said as he turned to face me. She had honey blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Her face radiated with warmth. Her name, what was it? Susan? Sara? Samantha, that was it. Samantha. I glanced at her outstretched hand what she had placed in my desk and I felt myself blush. However I stood there frozen. “Come on, Ashton. Pass it on before Mrs. Morgan catches it.”
However it was too late, as the middle aged woman had turned around to see the note in Samantha's hand. “Ms. Dyne? Would you like to read you note to the rest of the class?” Samantha shot me an angry look and she began to get up.
However something inside me snapped, and I didn’t know what was going through my mind. But it did. I stood up, and snatched the note from her hand. “Mrs. Morgan, actually it’s my note. Samantha had nothing to do with it.” My hand was shaking as I lowered my hand with the note in it.
“Okay then, Mr. Rodriguez. You can come to the front of the class and read the note.”
I stepped to the front of the room, and my whole body was shaking. Then with shaking lips, I read the note that ruined my entire school years.
My brain flashed white, and I was back out of my memories and back in reality. The darkness seemed to wrap around me, and swallowed me whole. There I was, in the box. The dark rancid, compressed box. My palms were laced with sweat. Samantha Dyne? But her name was changed. She’s my wife. Or was my wife. A memory flashed inside my head. Rain.
Rain was soon falling around me, and I was dressed in a black tux. I was holding up an umbrella and my face felt wet. Was it drops of rain? No, it was my own tears. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. Where was I? I scanned around the area. It was daytime, but the world was dark, due to the dark clouds overhead, and the pouring rain. In front of me, was a sight that shocked me. It was Samantha, but she was older, maybe in her mid-20’s. On her ring finger was a wedding band, clasped onto it, as her delicate cold hand was across her chest. Shd was dead, yet laid peacefully in her open casket.
She was dead. My wife was dead. Things were burning inside my head. Memories of the surgery, the recovering, the tears that her and I shared. I felt myself break free from my memories and again, I was back inside the box. Tears were hot on my face now, rolling down my cheeks. But there was one memory that was bubbling up from the surface. The worst and most horrible one. The mistake.
I sold my soul. There was a man who I met in the coffee shop, that Samantha and I used to visit frequently. His skin was pale, and he wore a lanky suit. He offered me a way to help the world, and something that would make Samanatha proud. What it was, he never said. But still, I was desperate. I didn’t know why, but I was. I just wanted to have some good in my life, and let myself die in a way to help the world. As I felt that I couldn’t live without Samantha. I was given a time and an address. But the choice was still up to me. I chose wrong.
When I arrived, I was handed a set of designer clothes to wear. I was curious, but I didn’t question it as I took them and put them on. Then I was here. I was facing death.
“I don’t want to die! Please! I made a mistake. I didn’t want to die!” I felt myself scream and tears welled up in my eyes.
“There’s no turning back.” A heard a deep voice say ominously. Then I felt a sharp prick in he back of my neck, and my body became stiff. And something happened. My skin was burning and becoming thick. Turning into plastic. The feeling spread throuhout my entire body, until I was a statue.
And then, I could see. A curtain was ripped off the box, revealing it was a glass box. And inside was a mannequin wearing the latest designer clothes. The crowd clapped at the reveal of it. Hoever they were too far away to see the drop of salty water in the corner of his eye.
However as soon as the puff of air escaped my mouth, the space began to shake. It felt as if the space was rising. Overhead I could hear a creaking noise, of rusty chains being strained with the weight of the box I was in. I rotated my wrists to feel the walls once more. They were slick, almost like waxed flooring tiles. However I felt no creases or marks across it. It was as if it was one giant piece with a space carved into it.
I rested my head against the slick wall, leaning as far as I could forward with my little space. It was so tight, I couldn't even raise my arms, and they were stuck at my sides. Then the rumbling increased and the entire space shook. Then it was still and the whirring noise above my head ceased.
“Remember Ashton.” A faint voice in the back of my head called out my name through the endless darkness. Ashton, my name was Ashton. I squeezed my eyes shut, well I think I did, and tried to concentrate as the voice repeated it's command again. “Remember Ashton.”
Then something hit me. Like a jolt of electricity to the brain. And with a flash of white light inside my head, something bubbled to the surface from the depths of my subconscious.
I was suddenly a kid again, and I was sitting in the middle of a classroom. Where was I? 7th grade! In Mrs. Morgan’s class. But why was I remembering this?
“Psst, pass this onto Donnie.” A girl in front of me said as he turned to face me. She had honey blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Her face radiated with warmth. Her name, what was it? Susan? Sara? Samantha, that was it. Samantha. I glanced at her outstretched hand what she had placed in my desk and I felt myself blush. However I stood there frozen. “Come on, Ashton. Pass it on before Mrs. Morgan catches it.”
However it was too late, as the middle aged woman had turned around to see the note in Samantha's hand. “Ms. Dyne? Would you like to read you note to the rest of the class?” Samantha shot me an angry look and she began to get up.
However something inside me snapped, and I didn’t know what was going through my mind. But it did. I stood up, and snatched the note from her hand. “Mrs. Morgan, actually it’s my note. Samantha had nothing to do with it.” My hand was shaking as I lowered my hand with the note in it.
“Okay then, Mr. Rodriguez. You can come to the front of the class and read the note.”
I stepped to the front of the room, and my whole body was shaking. Then with shaking lips, I read the note that ruined my entire school years.
My brain flashed white, and I was back out of my memories and back in reality. The darkness seemed to wrap around me, and swallowed me whole. There I was, in the box. The dark rancid, compressed box. My palms were laced with sweat. Samantha Dyne? But her name was changed. She’s my wife. Or was my wife. A memory flashed inside my head. Rain.
Rain was soon falling around me, and I was dressed in a black tux. I was holding up an umbrella and my face felt wet. Was it drops of rain? No, it was my own tears. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. Where was I? I scanned around the area. It was daytime, but the world was dark, due to the dark clouds overhead, and the pouring rain. In front of me, was a sight that shocked me. It was Samantha, but she was older, maybe in her mid-20’s. On her ring finger was a wedding band, clasped onto it, as her delicate cold hand was across her chest. Shd was dead, yet laid peacefully in her open casket.
She was dead. My wife was dead. Things were burning inside my head. Memories of the surgery, the recovering, the tears that her and I shared. I felt myself break free from my memories and again, I was back inside the box. Tears were hot on my face now, rolling down my cheeks. But there was one memory that was bubbling up from the surface. The worst and most horrible one. The mistake.
I sold my soul. There was a man who I met in the coffee shop, that Samantha and I used to visit frequently. His skin was pale, and he wore a lanky suit. He offered me a way to help the world, and something that would make Samanatha proud. What it was, he never said. But still, I was desperate. I didn’t know why, but I was. I just wanted to have some good in my life, and let myself die in a way to help the world. As I felt that I couldn’t live without Samantha. I was given a time and an address. But the choice was still up to me. I chose wrong.
When I arrived, I was handed a set of designer clothes to wear. I was curious, but I didn’t question it as I took them and put them on. Then I was here. I was facing death.
“I don’t want to die! Please! I made a mistake. I didn’t want to die!” I felt myself scream and tears welled up in my eyes.
“There’s no turning back.” A heard a deep voice say ominously. Then I felt a sharp prick in he back of my neck, and my body became stiff. And something happened. My skin was burning and becoming thick. Turning into plastic. The feeling spread throuhout my entire body, until I was a statue.
And then, I could see. A curtain was ripped off the box, revealing it was a glass box. And inside was a mannequin wearing the latest designer clothes. The crowd clapped at the reveal of it. Hoever they were too far away to see the drop of salty water in the corner of his eye.