How many days, how many nights? The only light comes from directly above me. From the pale blue glow I saw that it was night. Even during day, the placement and angle of the window never allowed the sun to ever hit the ground. So many days I yearned for her warm touch, yet a ray of sunlight merely teases across the cold cellar walls as the days drip by.
My eyes were half opened. Sleep never came easy, nor was I ever fully awake. Something ran over my leg. It screeched tiny whispers down the cell, along the walls, every hour of every night, these rats would look for scraps of food that were not there.
This one slipped out underneath a crack below the wooden door which locked me in.
Do I regret anything? Do I remain strong? Despite the tortures, I have not spoken a word to jeopardize my kingdom. How easy and sweet death would be. Release from this cold dampness and the ceaseless stench of my own piss and filth. Yet they question me every day, and pull at my limbs, and still I do not speak. I scream, but I will not speak. It must have been over three months since I last uttered a single word.
But death will not have me. perhaps a cruel joke to myself. Perhaps it’s what they want. I’m holding all the keys, after all.
As each day passes i continue to feel like my entire existence was leading up to these very moments. the more they tortured me the less it had any affect on me. i can feel my consciousness detaching from the physicality of reality. this is a quest, i tell myself. a journey into something much greater than anything i could’ve imagined. as they questioned me with vile intentions, i could not help but smile. this was all beginning to make sense. as my livelihood slowly faded, my reason for being glowed brighter still.
there were moments of madness, and then there were moments of bliss. it would come interchangeably. sometimes at moments when the spit of my nameless torturer would speck my face as he demands information. his red, agitated eyes would remind me of a mercury sunset i once saw with childhood friends from atop a pine tree hill. his wet globs of spit would at times remind me of the light drizzle of of my sleepy hometown in the mountains. when they torture my flesh and tug at my bones, i sometimes feel only a slight sensation, as if a winged insect had landed upon my skin. when i’d look over at where it had landed, i could almost see it glowing. these moments may not be much, but they are small sources of solace amongst such squalor.
a smile would creep upon my face during these moments of release and my torturer would yell all the harsher, his red eyes bulging, and more and more drizzle. sometimes i wonder who is more tortured. he or i?
it is almost time for me to leave this place. i don’t know this, and i don’t know how, but i can almost see it. i can taste it. i have been having the same dream in growing frequency. in this dream i wasn’t unchained and walking out the door. i was simply no longer here.
there is something out there. but it’s not just out there, it’s in here, it’s all around us. yet nobody can see it. but this unseen is precisely that which will set me free. i have been invited to the communion.
the cave walls began to melt all around me. rocks and cobblestone into molt and into ink, drizzling slowly in a slate waterfall. my half opened eyes looked about. was i dreaming again? is this what is to be when i no longer exist? does the reality of stone and moss just dissolve into air? i heard a noise, both foreign yet familiar. slow and pulsating, rasping like the air which is stretching all around me.
i realized it was the sound of my own breathing. is death so near me now? what is this cool calm within and without me? my head felt light, as if seeping into the melting walls. it was then that the cellar door opened.
the door welcomed who i was. who i was would’ve crawl up with gaping mouth and widened eyes towards this release. but it was no longer necessary. i felt surges of energy sweeping through my entire physical being.
i simply remained. sitting and gazing at the light slipping out of the open door. i was calm, without desire nor wants. the limestone waterfall all surrounding me took on a warm glow, as if to strengthen my spirit.
i heard two distant voices. echos of two shadows slowly approaching from down the light corridor.
i closed my eyes and a smile came across my face without effort or purpose. the voices drew closer, but it didn’t matter. they were sounds no different from my own breath. the rhythmic succession of their voices, slight, hollow and melodic, escalated as they drew closer. the melodies of their timed exchange swallowed into a growing wall of droning noise. layers of abstract noise, echoed upon me as if from all directions.
and then. it was no more. the air was different, i could feel a cool breeze and hear the sound of gliding blades of grass. my eyes remained closed, my new setting did not stir this entity one would call “I” or “me”. finally, the voice of a child in a way woke me.
“how did you get here?” it was a curious boy.
my answer was confident and true. “i don’t know.” i willed my eyes open.
it felt strange to hear my voice again. and weak as it was, it pierced an arrow through the haze of echoes all around me. the walls slowed in their movements, my eyes were focused on the boy looking back at me.
he was a thin, pale child. perhaps sickly, though his eyes was full of life and curiosity. my mind was slow and un-processing. i thought not of how he got there, or why he was standing in front me, silhouetted by the orange glow of the hallway outside. i simply saw that he did not move.
“what is your name?”
my eyes were still regaining it’s focus. as time passed i began to realize something. “what is your name?” my won voice echoed in me.
“Jacob.”
Standing before me, was me. at that instant i knew what i had to do.
i placed my hand on the floor. it was softer than before. i got to my knees, and my flesh sunk slightly into the ground. hard, wet cobblestone had given way to soft, thick soil. i placed one foot onto the ground, and felt the prickling sensation of wild grass swaying and brushing against my foot. my other foot followed, and slowly with a degree of shakiness, i stood up and felt the breeze upon my face.
my sensations flooded with the smell of fresh plant life billowing in the wind. it felt like it was gusting directly through me. my skin softened as i revelled under a full blanket of the sun’s warmth. the sound of my name still echoed all about me as i opened my eyes. truly opening them, like a shutter which had been closed too long. i blinked, and blinked again.
the light was all around me.
