Bred in Captivity

Pain. Bags of Red and Pierce.

 There was little to no sound in my little place I couldn’t hear the sounds of the chemical men as they walked to all the cells no sounds came from their dark shoes, or their long white coats. Only from their minds. My place was empty of sound, but full of thoughts. I knew that because I could hear them. I could hear the mad ravings of others like me. They were angry, and insulted, and scared. My place was full of fear. In their cells they would scream till they didn’t have voices. And then they would scream  with their thoughts, and I would listen. Sometimes. Some were beyond complete thoughts. They had been free once. They had lived outside this world. And they wanted to get back to that world. I had never been outside of this one. With the cold floors, and the pain. Darkness and pain. And those bags.

My world revolved around those small long bags of the Red. I would get them. If I was calm. If I didn’t use my thoughts. If I let them do things to me. If I didn’t fight my restraints. If I stayed in my place and didn’t try and escape.

I turned my head I couldn’t hear the sound of the chemical man as he pushed a switch I could hear the sound of my small high hole receive the energy to move. The sliding metal moved. Letting in the soft light. I liked the soft light. Well it didn’t hurt, so the soft light was good. The bright light was bad. It hurt. Pain, I knew was bad.  When the bright light came up they blocked it. More metal to block out the bright light. I knew that the light would kill me. I knew that not having the Red would kill me. And I knew that not living wouldn’t be all that bad. Pain on the other hand. Well not living wasn’t worth the pain it took to get there. I moved to sit in the small square of soft light. It was always changing shape. I didn’t like that, but tonight it was at the stage I did like. Five steps by five steps. When they opened the high hole it was always in the center of the room. It was five steps to it from any side. Except from the diagonal, but I didn’t walk that way anymore.

I shifted my arms a little pulling my elbows in a little closer to my ribs. As much as I could anyway. They were bound tight to me, with long sleeves that were buckled tight behind my back. This jacket I wore was very tight, and very well buckled. I knew better than to fight it. I knew it was bad. That it was stronger than I was, and in the position I was in, I couldn’t do anything against it. So I ignored it. It was warm, and my cell was usually not. So I didn’t hate it.

I knew the chemical man was coming now. I shifted in my jacket again, pulling my arms in tighter. I was nervous. I wasn’t ready for the pain yet. The chemical man I thought was the one who flipped the switch to open the high hole was coming to get me. I waited as the thoughts around me changed. They, the others like me knew that the chemical man was coming. He was going to bring us to the pain. I took several long breaths. I knew that he was going to judge me now. I was either going to be good, or bad. If I was good I would be rewarded with his long thin bags of Red. We were waiting to see if we had been good enough to receive one, to be fed. To not have to go through another agonizing period of not having the Red. I listened as the thoughts around me dimmed…the others like me were reaching out now. Forming a web, touching each others minds, and searching…I closed them off. I didn’t like others in my head. I felt most of them move past me, grazing over, and connecting with the next. A single connected identity of thought.  I ignored them. I was surprised they still could connect like this. Only a few could actually think true full thoughts.

 The face hole opened and I could see the chemical light spill through, ruining the perfects section of floor. I wanted to hiss at chemical man. But I didn’t. I stood walking the pace out of my light, and the five more paces to the door. A cold stick connected with the thick collar around my neck. And I felt my body tense. I had no choice now. If I did something wrong, the energy they used to open the doors would shoot into my neck. It was pain. Not like the not having the Red pain. But pain. “Face on the dish.” He said. I obliged. “Open your mouth.” Again, I obliged. “Close your mouth.” I hesitated I knew what was going to happen. It happened very often in my life. It would take my teeth, and jerk them down into the mouth thing, holding them very tight, it used to make my Red come down into my mouth. When my place was thirty steps across rather than fifteen. But it wasn’t the same anymore. It did cause pain. He shocked me. He didn’t hesitate. I obliged. The pole let go of my collar. And I stood at the door. He hadn’t told me to step back. So I hadn’t. The door opened slowly.