An Ordinary Life

It’s been 111 days since I was shut in this room with that box.

A box wrapped in plain brown paper that doesn’t open, doesn’t smell, never makes a sound and never moves. As inanimate an object as can be. But the strangest thing of all is that I can’t move it. Every time I try to lift it, open it or scoot it over, it stays exactly as it is. Smack dab in the middle of this small, bland room. A bed, a desk, a chair and that box. All gloriously illuminated by the light bulb hanging from the ceiling, bouncing off the white walls. Every night, as I suppose it is when this happens, the light turns off. I guess it’s my bedtime to whoever has imprisoned me in this room. After a couple months, my body adjusted and I now find myself tired after the light goes off. The light always comes on eight hours later. Then a metal plate is slid in through a hole in the door. My breakfast and lunch. Always a hot breakfast and a cold lunch. Eggs and toast followed by a sandwich of some sort. Then another eight hours later, I get my dinner. Meat, potatoes and string beans.

Every. Single. Day. Over and over.

I’m getting a little tired of eggs.

Before this room, I lived a fairly eventless life. I lived alone, I went to work, I had a few friends and that was about it. I’m a very strait laced person. I can’t think of single thing that would make someone want to imprison me like this. I had no enemies that I knew of. Who would have done this to me?

Thinking back to 111 days ago, my last day in my normal life, it was exactly like pretty much every other day. Get up, get ready, go to work, come home. I had some dinner, watched TV then went to bed. Never did I get a feeling something was off. My normal routine ended that night. The next morning, I woke up here. Of course, I proceeded to freak out. Day after day of yelling and banging. Trying to get anyone to answer me or find anyway out of this room. Truthfully, I didn’t even care about the box at first. It was the least of my worries. Once I realized I’d be in this room for a while, I started to zero in on the box. I poked at it and tried to move it. When that didn’t do anything, I tried to open it. Again, nothing. Which really shocked me because it clearly has a lid that on any other box would just lift right off. Did someone glue this lid on? Even if they did, it doesn’t answer why the box won’t budge. Glued down or not, the amount of effort I’ve put into moving it would have slid it over at least a little bit. At this point, my main goal has shifted from leaving this room. I need to move this box. Or find out what’s in it.

Day 112.

The light bulb comes on and wakes me out of my slumber. I groggily get out of bed and walk over to grab my breakfast/lunch combo. Without even paying attention, I grab the metal plate and drop it on my desk. After a few stretches, I sit down to have my breakfast. Except this isn’t my breakfast. Well, it’s not my normal breakfast. My eggs and toast have been replaced with a cream cheese bagel, lox and a side of fruit. What the hell? Why the sudden change? And my lunch is different too. No more sandwich. Instead I have a salad. Lettuce, carrots, pine nuts, cucumbers, and a whole bunch of other things. I don’t understand. Without even touching my food, I go back over to the door and start yelling.

“What the hell is this?! What are you doing? Stop playing with me and let me out of here!!!”

No response. Not like I even assumed there would be one, but I needed to get that out. It almost feels like a slap in the face. Being used to one thing for so long and out of nowhere it changing. I’m already suffering inside this room and it just feels like insult to injury.

After I cool down, I sit back down and start eating my breakfast. It’s delicious. I eat it quicker than I have in weeks. It almost makes me angry at how good it is. All this time, day after day of eggs and toast when I could have had something this good. When I get out of here, I’m going to go insane on whoever put me in here. I’ll go from this prison to another and it’ll be worth it.

After hours of contemplating what I’ll do when I get out of this place and trying yet again to get the box to move, my dinner slides through the door. I prepared myself this time and I was right to do so. No more meat, potatoes and string beans. Oh no, tonight I’m served a salmon filet with rice and asparagus. No blow up this time. I just dig right in and god, it’s even more delicious than my breakfast and lunch. It’s gone in minutes. For the first time in almost 4 months, I feel content. And that feeling lasts until the light goes off and I go to sleep.

Day 113.

The light comes on and my food is slid through the door but I am so comfortable I don’t move. The food can stay there for a while. It’s not going anywhere. I take my time getting up. Stretching out and just enjoying how good the bed's feeling today. Once I finally get out of bed, I see my food. Again, something different. But that’s not what really catches my eye. What steals my attention from the delicious looking meals at my feet is the box.

The box is open.

It’s lid is slightly off of the top, sitting there angled on the edge. The opening is only a small sliver. I drop to the floor and quickly tear the top of the box off. It’s dark inside. I stick my hand in. I reach my arm in all the way to the shoulder and I touch nothing. I pull my arm back violently when I finally realize there is no bottom to the box. I scramble back as far away as I can get.

What the hell? Is it connected to a room below me? Is someone else down there? Is it something otherworldly?

Just then, a faint light comes from the box. The box looks like a dying fluorescent bulb is inside it. No noise, just a soft glow. I’m scared shitless. I want to investigate but I don’t want to at the same time. My first opportunity for some kind of answer and I’m too terrified to move. But I have to. I can’t just sit here forever. So I get up and I slowly peer into the box. My eyes drift over the edge and I see a person in a normal looking room. It looks like an apartment. Though they are very far down so it’s hard to make a lot of things out. How tall is their ceiling? Where the hell are they? Where the hell am I? This is only bringing more questions but I sit and I watch longer. They sit there, watching TV. 5 minutes pass. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. They sit there. I’m tired of waiting so I yell down.

“HEY! Please help me! I’ve been kidnapped!”

Nothing.

“HEY! Look up here! I need help!”

They don’t move an inch.

“PLEASE! Can’t you hear me?!”

It’s like I’m talking to a ghost.

I take some of my food and I throw it into the box. The moment I throw it into the box, it disappears. I throw some more. It never makes it down to the other person.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

After more time trying to get their attention, I give up. I hang my head next to the box. Why can’t they hear me? Are they deaf? Do they just not care? Is this the person that’s imprisoned me?

I eat my food. Another meal that excites my taste buds and leaves my stomach feeling content. But once I’m done, all I can do is look inside the box.

The person has finally stopped watching TV. They’ve gotten up and left the room. They come back in the room and they have a plate of food. From this height, it’s hard to exactly make out what’s on the plate. But I swear it looks like eggs and toast. They sit back down, pick up their utensils and start to eat. They eat slowly and precisely. It’s almost like I’m watching a robot taught how to be human. How can they sit there and eat like this? Sitting in silence, eating the most bland of meals.

It’s been a few hours and watching this person feels like watching moss grow. I can’t believe just how boring their existence is. They haven’t had a bit of excitement since I began watching them. Not a laugh, not a cry, no phone calls, not a single moment of emotion. It’s less boring now and more sad. Life seems to be passing them by. Are they content? Is this the life that they WANT to live? The more I watch, the more I can’t take it. I want to jump though the box and shake the hell out of them. I want to tell them that there is so much to go experience. I want to shove them out of their apartment and not let them back until they’ve gone somewhere and felt something for once in their goddamn life.

I can’t watch anymore. There’s nothing I can do to help them. They won’t listen to me. They won’t even look at me. They’re happy in what they call a life.

I put the lid back on the box and I sit at my desk.

They may be happy living like that but I’m not. I will not let this room turn me into that. I refuse to stay in this place and live with no emotion. Live with no urge for new experiences or to make the most out of my existence. Tomorrow, I’m going to do whatever I have to so I can find a way out of this room. Even if it kills me. I’ll find a way out.

I turn around and stand up.

The box is gone.

The place where the box has been for 113 days is bare. All I see is the white of the floor. I can’t take my eyes off the spot where the box used to be. It’s been like the roommate I can’t wait to get rid of but now that it’s gone, I’m surprised.

CLICK

A sound I haven’t heard since I’ve been in this room. A sound I never thought I’d hear again.

The door slowly begins to open.

Tears start to form in my eyes.

The door opens wide. Light shines into the room.

I can’t see anything outside the door but it doesn’t matter. I run straight through the door and into the light.

Ready for whatever is to meet me on the other side.