"When I was a child I had hope and love. If only I knew what would happen" -unknown
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Isigh in content as I feel the rays from the sun gazing upon my skin. I lay in a field of flowers, letting the long grass tickle my face as I stare at the clouds. I remember once hearing stories about people who would lay down and gaze at the clouds.
I feel the grass gaze my face as the wind forces it to bow and the scent of the Earth fills my nose. I feel dread in the pits of my stomach as I realize that at some point, I will have to wake up. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. I close my eyes and drift off back to reality, back to the shitty world that is the truth.
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I open my eyes and feel my heart clench as I stare at the familiar metal roof of my cold, small cell. I run my hand through my hair and sit up, my back aching from the stiff piece of shit that was my bed. I feel my spine crack in places as I stretched. I look around and see the walls of my cell, mocking me. That's all I've seen for four years, the same bland walls, mocking and cursing me, wanting to constantly remind me that this is my life now. Trapped with nothing but these stupid fucking walls to see. Nowhere to escape but my dreams.
Sometimes I wonder if being killed would have been easier than this. Then that way I wouldn't have to stare at these fucking plain walls. I sigh and lean my head against the wall behind me, feeling the chill emanating throughout my body. I feel the goosebumps on my arms but ignore them.
I fucking hate it here. I miss the outside world, the noise of people scuffling down the halls, children laughing as they play silly games. I never thought I would miss it, but I guess you never realized what you had until it's gone. That's life, I guess. It sucks, but it happens to everyone at some point in their sad, pathetic lives.
I look out the small circular skylight type of thing at the stars. Sometimes I think they put that in cells as an added punishment. Freedom at the tip of your fingers, but you're too far to reach it. While it does cause me to get into shitty moods, I can't help but stare out at the galaxy. It's beauty mocks those who are brave enough to look. It captivates you and mocks you.
I sometimes wish I was a star. They have it so easy. All they have to do is stay where they are and burn as bright as they can. They don't have to worry that they may die any day, they don't have to mourn the loss of someone important, they don't have to feel anything at all. I wish I could be like them, numb and without a damn care in the world. I'm jealous of them.
I stare out at the stars and remember the stories my mother would tell me after she tucked me into bed. She talked about how each star came to be, such as Aquila, the eagle, or Andromeda, the chained lady. I loved those stories. I can still hear her telling them to me as my little ears soak in every detail, every word she spoke. Her soothing voice lulled me into a peaceful slumber. My mother was the very best storyteller I know. She would sometimes tell me stories about Earth and what it was like there.
She told me stories about the soft green grass and trees as they stood proud. About how people would stargaze through telescopes to see the brilliant stars as they twinkled in the night sky. She also told me the bad stories too. She told me about how the war on Earth destroyed those who inhabited it, but people did managed to escape to outer space. They said it would take a hundred years to be able to come back to Earth, so they must survive with the resources they had. Soon, they formed the Ark and that's where I am, stuck in this pathetic cell.
It's sad, really. I used to be powerful, feared, respected. Now, I'm just a slimy prisoner that is beneath everyone else. It really puts things in perspective for me. I used think I was all that, but this made me realize that no one cares for me, I'm just a fucking weapon, a nothing, to others. If I died, they'd only get mad at all the resources they wasted on me. It really does something to a person when they realize they're nothing, absolutely fucking nothing. All those I cared about either betrayed me or died. People I loved didn't give a shit about me.
I shake away those pathetic thoughts away. The last thing I need to be doing is pitying myself, that's just pathetic. I need to get over it and move on. That's life, you get betrayed a few times here and there by those you care about. Move on, it happens to everyone. I'm not special and I need to stop pretending I am.
I feel my heart clench and I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. God, I'm so fucking pathetic. I need to get a hold of myself and move the fuck on. Being emotional isn't going to change anything.
I get torn away from my thoughts as I hear my cell door open and the lights get bright. Two guards walk into my cell. I raise an eyebrow at the electric sticks they're holding.
"Hey, fellas. What can I help you with? A blowjob or two?" I ask sarcastically.
