Short Stories*Short Poems

Dungeons and Uncertinty

As the man slumped in the corner like a sack, his surroundings were dismal and pitifully cramped. The room was dark and lifeless , all over the prison cell, there was brown puddles muddled inside with blood and urine. The floor was freezing and not having shoes didn't make it any better. Strange smudges, were cascaded all over the wall. The stench of pee seemed like it sucked the life out of you. The smell was overpowering his dark bedroom, his personal dungeon. And the bars jagged and broken that were ten feet above him. His only source of seeing out into the real world. The room was a cold concrete prison. His only source of light was the moon and sun. When all the light fades away and he's left with nothing but darkness, and a sense of solitude. His emotions were nonexistent. As if they were sucked out from his whole mentality.

The atmosphere had a suffocating stench ooze inside his nostrils, and out his breath. You can only wonder how a man stays alive in such conditions.
And yet the man was still alive. But no longer full of life. The man never speaks. Never moves. Isn't even capable of having human feelings. He's forgotten. His memories have all fleeted away, only scattered remnants, just dust inside his Rafty roof. His strength withered away, completely drained. As if he's just on a blank piece of paper, nothingness. But...
His spirit was once an array of amusement, and now in miserable, endless torture of solitude. Silence is his only companion inside and outside of his demented prison.
This young man was soon to become grand. A young man that won it all! Fame, Fortune, Respect. He was riding the clouds, dreaming for love and nothing in between. Until his life soon came crashing down on top of him squeezing every last bit of hope and joyous life he had. But all that's left in his rough crescent. Is now a black hole, growing larger and larger, swallowing everything he's loved. Creating him to be him a....monster.

The moon beamed its soft radiant light into his solemn and grim jail cell. It has been three years since and nothing but unmercifully night terrors. Sleepless nights. And  painful headaches. But the real pain was his relentless struggle to physically break free from his forlorn cell. But his escape seemed fruitless.
And the time that has been taking for his escape has been far too long, does anybody even remember me? Is what he thinks about, as time passes by so critically slow. The man my seem like a disheartened fool, that may have deserved to be in that God forsaken cell. But what I know for certain is that no one deserves to be treated like an animal, then put into a deathening Bastille.