Dream-Based Stories

Lost in the Prison then BAM!

I walk around. The jail is cold and feels empty of emotion. I forget why I am even here. I forget my purpose here. I was here for something. I'm here with my church.

That's right.

Prison ministry work.

I find that some of the prisoners are kind and gentle. They have accepted God. Others are not. To them, I seem to look like a meal. Do people eat other people anymore? I think these guys would. Eat me anyway. Eat me because I am small and might look easy to kill.

I'm not easy to kill thought. I use a bow and arrows. If anything, I could probably fight the... Scrawny ones... If such actually existed. I actually wish that I had my bow and arrows with me now. I feel uncomfortable with all these eyes just staring blankly at me. Like lions getting ready to attack. I must keep walking. I am lost. I cannot find the rest of my church. Not a single person I came here with.

I'm now literally freaked out. These guys seem to have a lot more bottled up anger than I thought. They deserve to be in here. If they have done the crime, they need to do the time. But their faces gives me a look that seems like they believe I've done a crime and shouldn't walk free among them.

This is beyond creepy.

Something screams with a horrid scream behind me. Many cellmates laugh at it. At the fact that I jumped like a weak coward. They wish to make me feel small and more unsafe than I already do. And it is working. I feel like running, hiding. But I can't. Where are all the guards? My safety feels more in the balance. There are no guards. Why are there no guards? These prisoners could easily get out of control. I do not understand it.

BANG! I jump as the sound of a gun goes off. I feel like something just passed me. The bullet? I look behind me and one of the prisoners stands, holding the gun at his side and looking at me like he hasn't eaten in his whole life.  And I am his first meal. He is tall, has muscles that I do not like the sight of on him, and short hair. He hasn't shaved in a few short weeks and he has scars all over his face. Making him look hungry for blood. He raises the gun again and I dart off. Shots go off behind me and I hear his footsteps, running after me. I can be faster than him, right? I once outran my super fast gymnastics teacher. I can, right?

I feel like I am in a maze. Every twist and turn leads to more twists and turns. I feel like I'm going deeper into the prisoner. Cellmates raising their voices in cheering on the prisoner chasing me. You have got to be kidding me, right? And there are no guards! None! What did they do, just up and disappear? I know it is not that easy! It gets darker and darker and my legs are becoming sore. He gets closer. Or, at least, the bullets do. He is gaining on me. I am slowing. I manage a scream. Just one of pain and needing of help, but without words. But no one comes. No one comes for me! WHAM! I turn the next corner and run into the dead-end wall. My nose begins to bleed so badly, I cannot breathe through it. The blood easily drenches my face. My clothes. Then the prisoner turns the corner, an evil smirk on his face. He licks his lips. Does he really wish to eat me? Does my blood look tasty to this creep?

I am getting so light-headed. My blood loss is making me dizzy. I feel something cold against my chest. So cold. I hear one last gunshot and everything goes black. Everything becomes cold.