25. Veronica
I’ve spent the last few days sleeping. When I heard the slot open for my food to be delivered, I woke briefly, stared at the tray on the ground, and then went back to sleep. My appetite was shot anyway.
I was at peace when I slept. No dreams, just relaxation. If I were to stay awake, then I’d be in my head, and I didn’t want that to happen. In my mind, it was the last place I wanted to be. I’d overthink things.
Did I see something in the corner? No, that would be ridiculous. What about that noise I just heard that came from under the bed? There are no monsters under the bed, Ronnie. You’re the only monster in here.
Those were my thoughts when I was here before I realized that sleep was the best option. Mind tricks. That’s what this dreary space does to you.
I haven’t cried another tear. I got all that out of the way on the first day. Now, my eyes are dry, and they couldn’t produce any more tears if they wanted to.
Yesterday, I only woke to the sound of the food and if I needed to use the toilet. Then I’d crawl over the itchy blanket and pass back out.
Now, I lay on my side with my knees tucked into my chest, staring into the darkness. The ceiling light hasn’t come on yet. Odd. Last I remember, it turns on when day three hits. Does this mean it isn’t day three? Is it still day two? I’m not even sure.
The little slot at the bottom of the door opens. A hand pushes the tray in, and my eyes hold focus while it scoots across the ground.
“You’re wasting food.” My voice is scratchy. Dry from the lack of water.
“Seems to me you are the one wasting food.” The guard quips back. “Every tray I’ve come in to take has been full.”
I swallow the small amount of saliva in my mouth. Fuck, it’s like I’m swallowing sandpaper. “You try being locked in here and tell me if you have an appetite.”
He says nothing. The guards, doctors, and nurses wouldn’t last a day here and they know it.
“Why isn’t the light on?”
“A few of the bulbs died in the rooms.” He states. “Haven’t fixed them.”
“Really? What the hell have you been doing then? Jacking off?”
“Funny.” He doesn’t laugh. “I’m not down here all the time. I have other responsibilities.”
I don’t care about what he has going on in his life. “You’re here now. Change it.”
“I’m not opening the door.” He responds.
“I’m not staying here a whole week in the dark!” I raise my voice, even though my throat feels like razor blades are scraping against it.
“Looks like you are.” With that, he shuts the slot, and I hear him walk away.
Fucking dammit!
A whole week in the dark?I’m going to lose my mind more than I already have.