The darkness was like nothing I’ve ever known. I contemplated how I got here. How could I have done this, I thought to myself. The memories flooded back to me. I sat there frozen in time.
I looked to my right. Twelve people. I looked to my left, only one person: my defendant lawyer. These twelve people, wrapped in robes, looked at me with disgust. I distinctly remember one, ancient, man, who exclaimed a petrified expression from what I had done. There was no escaping the consequences of my actions. “Order, order!” exclaimed the judge. His face was lined with intelligence and morality. Intelligence, I have, but the latter
was a characteristic I failed to develop. I sat there in perplexity, when I saw a young boy, moving his head from side to side. This gesture was directed at me. He seemed familiar, but didn’t look right. His skin was thinner than ice, his eyes were a thick red colour, and his hair were long strands as fine as a spider’s web. The sight of him was overwhelming. He waved at me, smirking and maliciously giggling. The judge brought me back into reality. My sentence, delivered: a lifetime in solitary confinement. I gazed over my shoulder seeking the little boy, but he was nowhere to be seen.
My first day in the can: miserable. I had already been warned to watch my back. Inmates spat at me. Their words pressed down on me and spun around in my mind. Then a strange, pre-pubescent voice lingered in my head. Unusual considering I was in an adult prison. I gave it little thought, disregarding it as another curse thrown at me by one of the inmates. Even those who had committed the most offensive acts looked down at me for my crime. I was an outcast not only in society, but also in prison.
The darkness was like nothing I’ve ever known; it was deeply ominous. No light blessed my eyes. Accompanied with this, silence. I had been sentenced to a lifetime of solitary confinement. I could only hear the sheer sound of emptiness, like a limitless void. No sound graced my ears: my own breath, the gentle beat of my heart, the slow pulse in my veins; somewhat familiar noises that seemed like a foreign, far away memory. However, I could
sense a presence that was somewhat detrimental. A dark force, surely. I quickly concluded it was an evil companion, glaring at my face. Although I had no sight, I could sense its beady stare, piercing my eyes. It projected an aura of superiority. My stomach sank as I realised what this supernatural fiend was. And I was stuck, confined with it…
Night slowly fell. I internally reflected on my current situation that at first seemed totally surreal. Isolated in my own cell, in a particular ward nicknamed ‘the iron curtain’, the bland grey walls seem to close in on me, trapping me, as if each inch of the wall would immanently cave in on me, or even block me from any hope of civilization. My door was the unmovable
curtain, segregating me from the other inmates. There were no windows, not even bars.
Just darkness, again. Although, a thin, gold, radiating strip lined the outside of the unmovable curtain. Is this light? For a slight moment, I felt my heart pounding, and the blood rushing like a river through my veins. This feeling of ecstasy did, however, last under a second, as it dawned on me that the lack of nutrition had caused me to hallucinate. I was on a seesaw of consciousness, rocking in and out of reality. Again, the silence crept up on me. But a cold wind blew over my body. Tiny daggers stabbed my feet, legs, stomach, chest, and face, eventually engulfing my whole body. The cold wind eventually turned sour, producing the vilest smell, causing my face to scrunch up. However, I soon remembered this was not a foreign sensation. This smell was the smell of death. The Supernatural Being was doused in
the cocktail of death. The little boy had returned, seeking one thing only: revenge…