Who are you really?

 The sound of keys

The sound of keys brought Josephs attention to the door. Jingle jangle coming closer accompanied by the heavy step of a guards boot.

Were they coming to see him? Who were they coming to see? Was someone in trouble? Had he done something wrong and they were coming to punish him. Sitting in the corner of the small, slightly damp room on a bed that smelt slightly of mould and urine Joseph drew his legs closer to his chest and hugged them with all his might. The keys were getting closer.

The sound of his own breath sounded harsh and rapid to his ears and seemed to be in discordant harmony with the steps outside the door. The grey, mottled walls drew even closer to him until the earlier impression he had of being trapped within a stone coffin became more of a reality.

The unknown, unseen key carrying entity stopped suddenly and for Joseph time slowed and the metal door became his world. It was the only thing keeping the key-carrying monster from taking him away.

His ears strained to grasp any hint or clue as to the intent of this unknown person standing outside his tomb.

The keys resumed their rattle followed by a metallic clank click as a key was inserted into the doors lock.

Joseph closed his eyes tight briefly as if to block the reality of the moment only to open quickly with a quiet whimper as fear gripped him. The pressure on his bladder grew intolerable and his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. He tried to make himself smaller, gripping his legs even tighter, trying to become invisible.

The door opened letting in a cold chill that settled on him like a malignant spirit which laughed merrily as it toyed with his soul. A shadow filled the entrance to the doorway large and menacing. The keys held within its grasp like a talisman of despair.

For a brief moment time paused.

“Meal time in half an ‘our” the creature chanted and it left leaving the curse to percolate into its prey.

What could it mean thought Joseph? With the absence of the keys, the fear started to diminish and the meaning became all too clear. His life in prison had finally begun.

As a cold blanket of certainty settled over him and tightened slowly around his chest Joseph looked around through half formed tears at the rest of his tomb. To the right of the door was a stainless steel toilet that, despite its description, had managed to get stained with some unidentifiable white streaks.

Starting about 2 feet in front of the toilet, was a fixed metal bench that travelled the remaining 10 feet to a wall that housed a small window which was set high into a small recess. The windows themselves were dirty and held in place by a flaky warped frame and the pale ochre light that was allowed to pass was accompanied by a continuous haunting whistle that rose and fell with the winds caress.

As befitting a pauper’s burial chamber there was nothing else. No pictures of his family, no comfort from his girlfriend, no laughter from his friends just an emptiness that sat aching in the pit of his stomach waiting to swallow him whole.

A single tear ran down his face as a sudden knock on the door was followed by 2 strangers entering the cell. With a quick wipe of the sleeve Joseph wiped away the evidence of his weakness and prepared himself to get ‘taxed’ or ‘raped’ like he’d seen on TV.

“Hi, mate.” said one stranger “Get your laughing gear ‘round this” he held a large blue mug that contained some unknown liquid that smelled of fruit.

“First day’s a bitch” said the other man “But it’ll work out in the end. It always does one way or another”.