Unfinished Short Stories

The Voice

"You sound terrible." The voice beyond the tin wall chuckles her cute, innocent sounding chuckle.

"Do I?" I slightly joke back to the voice. "Nice to know that you can state the obvious."

"Oh, shut up." I hear some shuffling followed by a thump. "I'm okay." She assures me. There's a slight silence before I realize she can't see me nod.

"That's good." I start. The weight in my chest suddenly becomes heavy with rising anxiety. "Are you sure you're okay?" I ask slowly and calmly. She probably can't hear me.

"Yeah," She sighs heavily, "as good as I ever can be here." There's more shuffling beyond the wall. "How about you?Once they brought you back you sounded kind of rough."

This time I move around to get a little more comfortable, the back of my head pressed against the navy blue wall. "I'm alright." I confirm, really unsure of the thoughts that fight my emotions. "Okay."

"That's good." She says.  I imagine her nodding awkwardly and looking away from me. If I could only look at her eyes. I wonder about their color; their shape; their emotion. I think if she actually saw me, she would never speak to me again.  I look awful.

The room feels heavy now. I keep my gaze on the red digital clock on the opposite side of the room. They gave us all a clock so we would know when to get ready and when we will go on. It's 7:49. She will be leaving soon.

"You should get ready. I don't want you to get in trouble again." Last time was so bad. I don't know why she tries to bend the rules, still. I'm scared for her.

"I will when I want to. Now is not that time." She says. But now is that time. Don't do this again. Do what they want.

"Please. . ." I mumble. The thick wall blocks my words from her ears. The rising anxiety in my gut takes the sound from my voice.

At 7:55 there's a pounding knock on the next door's room. Fuck. This is her time to leave. Why are they getting her early?

I hear the door slam and hit the wall, probably putting a dent in it. "Why aren't you getting ready?!" A voice yells. Their angry. "How many times do we have to warn and punish you before you learn? You're show is getting canceled." They inform her.

A show being canceled means that that person will disappear. No one is sure of what happens, but we all assume the worst. What else could happen? Why would they waste money on someone who isn't bringing them money?

I can't hold back my screams. "NO! DON'T TAKE HER FROM!"  My voice nearly gives out from the force of it. "No, no. Not again, Not again." I cower against the wall with my legs pulled up to my chest and my hands covering my ears. Tears flood down my cheeks and my chest becomes tight.

The sound of their fist pounding against my wall, now, and it fills the room. "Quiet! Or you will be punished too!"

I'd rather have them take me instead of her, but that can't happen. After another door slam, the world becomes silent and I'm alone.

I'm alone again. They've taken so much from me and made me alone again.

The red light of the clock fills me with rage, and I roughly grab it and slam it against the wall until it's contents are scattered across the room. I can't handle this.

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Inspired by a game called Captive Audience. I haven't seen a playthrough of it in forever, but it left an imprint ij m head and decided to write about it.