Tag Archives: jail

Sleep

I opened my eyes reluctantly, hoping to hold on to my dreams a little longer.

While I slept I would roam the endless plains of North Dakota. Back to the freedom I once knew.

When I woke, I knew I would be returned to this nameless hellhole. My whole world was everything a 60 watt bulb could illuminate. My freedom, restricted by a chain link fence hooked up to a row of car batteries.

A pure darkness laid at the periphery of everything in my existence. Occasionally I could hear water dripping, but I tried not to fall into its hypnotic rhythm. Lest I slip into madness.

I never found out who had trapped me here, how it had happened, or why.

The only escape was to make it disappear. I tried- Forced myself to sleep.


REAL TALK

Depression is something I struggle with. Sometimes when I am content a voice from inside tries to convince me that it is just a dream, and I am destined to wake up to the reality that all the hope in the world was never real to begin with. I know that’s not true- but I can’t seem to escape it sometimes. The battle, at least for me is to remember that depression is the dream. It’s not real. And at some point I will wake up.

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Victim of the Times

When I stepped out of the time machine, I was excited to see how much things had changed. When I had entered the time machine, things I didn’t understand scared me. I would act irrationally and violently. That’s why I had to travel through time. Maybe things would make sense now. I always believed that the future would be bright.

I swung the sack holding my things over my shoulder and held a thumb stretched out to the road.

A passing semi truck squealed to a stop. That was fast. The door flew open and a stout man hopped out onto the dirt beside the road.

“It’ll be good to have some company! I’ll take you out Atlanta-way if that’s where you’re headed.” He gestured for me to follow him.

I nodded and made my way to the truck. Once I had climbed in, the man turned the engine and pulled back onto the road.

The cab of the truck was grimy, but comfortable. Blankets, spent cigarettes, and leftover Chinese takeout was strewn about carelessly.

“So where exactly are you headed?” The driver asked.

My brain knew the words to say, but I was too entranced to answer. He held a small black box in his right hand which he waved around as he talked. The flat face of the box displayed a picture of a woman smiling and a digital clock showing the time of day.

“Excuse me sir,” I asked. “What is that thing in your hand?”

The man looked puzzled.

“This?” He held up the small black box. “This is my phone.”

The box confused me. Made me feel uncomfortable in a way that made my skin crawl. It was unnatural. What was this feeling? Was this the future?

A catatonic fear permeated my body, I could not shake the feeling of being lost.

The man reached over to put his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?”

It was a big mistake on his part.

I grabbed for the nearest object and stabbed it into his throat.

The man let go of the wheel and fumbled his fingers around his neck, trying to pull out the chopstick lodged into his windpipe. The blood made it too slippery to remove before we made impact with another car.

It was a head on collision. Luckily I had been in the larger vehicle. I survived. The truck driver and the family in the other car did not.

I was sentenced to 25 years to life. Maybe the next time I step out of the time machine things will make sense.

The future will be bright.