Living Terrors

Natalie Nelson

Brown

Honors English 9 – Period 4

30 April 2014

Living Terrors

            Room 101.  I was afraid of the thought of the chamber – even the word filled me with trepidation. They brought me to the area and closed the door after they pushed me in roughly, leaving me alone. I caught myself with my palms before I hit the floor, opening my eyes after the impact. Darkness. Blackness surrounded me and my eyes frantically searched the space. I sought at least a hint of light. There was nothing to be found. I was alone in the darkness.

            Standing up, I began to cautiously walk around. I put my hands out as I ambled in the dark, looking for anything. My knees hit something that was firm and soft, my fingers went along the entire platform, and my mind smiled, but my face stayed expressionless. I looked down even though all I saw was black and I ran my hand across the expanse of cushion. It was a bed.

            I took a seat on the cot and closed my eyes. Feeling physically drained, I moved from a sitting position to a lying position. Closing my eyes, I tried to sleep; I needed to sleep because I hadn’t slept in four days –not since I had been arrested and brought to Miniluv and within Miniluv, to Room 101. I drifted into a slumber, no longer afraid to doze. I was already in here so why would I be afraid of getting caught talking in my snooze? The cotton that adorned the bed was itchy and scratched at my arms. So maybe it wasn’t cotton, but burlap.  My last thought before I went to sleep was what material the bed was made of. I was glad I no longer had to worry about getting arrested. I wasn’t able to get deep in my rest before my torture began.

            My eyes shot open and I sat up because of a frightening noise. A scratching at a wall or a door – I obviously could not see where exactly the odd noise was coming from. The racket was like nails on metal. The sound became louder and louder like it was coming from below me now.

            Closer.

            Louder.

            Angrier.

            My breath came in quick, short pants as my eyes grew wide from my freight. What frightened me the most was that I didn’t even know where it was coming from and I didn’t know where to run, but I knew it was coming closer.

            It became more vicious.

            I put my hands overs my ears to attempt to block the noise, but it didn’t do anything to help. The scratching was so close now I did the only thing I could think of. I screamed.

            “Stop it! Stop it! Don’t come any closer, please!” I shouted and squeezed my eyes shut. The scratching stopped suddenly and my breathing was the only thing I could hear for a moment. I thought my yelling had worked. Letting out a breath, I peered into the dark, my heart still racing. I thought I was safe… until I heard a low rumble and a growl and felt a sharp pain. I had been scratched!

            At first, I could feel only a little sting. Then as the air hit it, an excruciating amount came over me and it was the only thing I could feel and all my concentration went on my leg. I touched the tip of my finger to it and lightly gasped. There were no present scratches. I expected a couple of bloody gashes, but I was only touching my soft skin. I could still feel the pain and I whimpered.

There was nothing here for me to help myself. I could only cry. I didn’t even remember falling asleep, but when I woke up next, it was still obscure and icy. My limb, where I was scratched, still throbbed. I pondered the reason why I felt so much aching, but no evidence of any lacerations.  “The incident was all in my head?” I whispered. “But my hurt… I swear it’s real.” I balked at the idea. I guess this is what Room 101 does to you. It makes you insane, packed with lunacy.

Sitting up, I sighed. Lowering my head, my eyes began to teem with hot tears as I comprehended that imagining the things that petrified me the most was how I was going to spend the rest of my life:

Alone…

In the darkness.