Echo's of The Cage

Content Warning: This article contains descriptions of nightmares, themes of mental health struggles (Relating to PTSD), Allusions of violence, isolation, substance use, & emotional distress.

They didn’t fall asleep right away, they never did. But their body did. Before their mind drifted to sleep, the night's torment began. The soft warmth of their bed was replaced by nightmares that crept in like the chilling ache of deep winter, seizing them, and binding them to the sheets within its bitter embrace. Time blurred—hours or minutes, they couldn’t tell—before they finally slipped into a restless sleep.

It wasn't long after falling asleep, that they'd found themselves trapped in their subconscious, the acrid scent of metal burning their nose and sending shivers through their frozen body. The cozy embrace of their bed had vanished, replaced by the cold, unyielding bars of their cage. Exhausted, they had slumped against it while drifting off, and now they felt the hard metal pressing into their back. The gaps between the bars were just wide enough for them to reach through, and they had fallen asleep with their hand in the cage beside them, clutching the hand of the person who slept within it. They gazed quietly at her sleeping form, keeping still, hesitant to disturb her fragile peace.

As they strained to hear her faint breaths, they realized the morning chorus of birds was what had stirred them; dawn was approaching. A shiver ran down their spine as their strained ears caught a cough from the adjoining room. They froze as he shifted on the couch, the old springs groaning beneath him. He would wake soon, they feared, withdrawing their hand from hers with a tremor. Exhausted, she didn't move.

They woke suddenly, but only in mind. The sensation of the cold metal bars pressed into their back persisted, their bones aching with the familiar chill of the cage. Yet they were safe in their bed again. Decades had passed since they had been in that room, yet each night it haunted them without fail. And now despite being awake, their body remained in the grip of slumber. Their limbs were heavy with the weight of sleep and they struggled to move a finger or a toe. Nightmares danced behind their closed eyelids which felt glued shut. All they could do was wait for their body to wake.

Once they could move, despite being exhausted they were unwilling to sleep. Chasing away the ghosts of the past with a concerning amount of caffeine, they kept as busy as possible throughout the day. That was until it was time to sleep again.

Sleep-deprived from the night before, they fell asleep quickly, finding themselves once again trapped in their mind. The cold had never left them, from the first time they’d fallen asleep and now they returned to the cage once more. They shivered pulling their legs against their chest and resting their head on their knees. They closed their eyes, listening to the sounds of their companion sleeping in the cage beside them. She was exhausted, and so were they but they tried to stay awake. She was sleeping so deeply, they thought, they needed to hear when he woke up for her.

But sleep overtook them unnoticed, and they jolted awake as he turned the doorknob. Panic surged through them, their body tensing instinctively to flee. Disoriented, they scanned their surroundings, struggling to place where and when they were. They held their breath, willing their pounding heart to remain silent. They must be hiding, they thought, until the click of claws on what should have been a concrete floor startled them. Confused, they realized the floor was hardwood.

Before long, a medium-sized dog appeared, wagging its tail joyfully and nuzzling against their leg. Tentatively, they reached out and began to stroke the dog, feeling the nightmare recede like his shedding fur. Slowly, recognition dawned—they were in their own home, years later. The nightmare was merely a memory now, lurking in the recesses of their mind.

Their heart still raced, the chill of the nightmare clinging to them despite fading sensations. They stood, the dog as their faithful shadow, and walked to the fridge for another energy drink before starting to clean. They watched the sunrise, unwilling to attempt sleep again until its rays bathed the room in light.

Finally, blissfully, they were too tired to dream when they fell asleep this time. It wasn’t until hours later, around noon, that the nightmare began again. Once again they fell asleep in the real world only to wake up in a cage, holding their sleeping companion's hand through the bars. When they woke up this time, they didn’t try to go back to sleep.

Later that night they found themselves sitting awake, fighting the exhaustion that tugged at their eyelids. It wasn't quite bedtime yet; they needed to wait until they were on the brink of collapse—until shadows danced at the corners of their vision and words blurred into nonsense. Curious, they glanced at the clock, it read nearly 3 AM. They knew they should sleep, but the lingering ghosts of their last nightmare held their mind captive.

Pausing in their writing, they took a swig from their energy drink, hoping to banish the exhaustion and with it the lingering unease. Weary, they rubbed their forehead and shook their head slightly, as if to dispel unwanted thoughts, before returning their hands to the keyboard. But soon, their fingers stumbled over the keys, and their eyelids seemed to cling together like magnets.

With a shudder, they reluctantly prepared for bed, feeling the weight of dread that accompanied sleep.

They fell asleep quickly this time, the combined weight of dread and exhaustion lulling them into a fitful slumber. They squirmed under the blankets, desperate breaths gasping for air.

In the nightmare, they found themselves not in the cage but suffocating, air just barely out of reach. They tried to reach forward, unable to move, their eyes straining in complete darkness. Suddenly, the weight lifted, and they gasped for air, only to choke as a rancid liquid was poured into their mouth by an unseen, rough hand. They struggled to spit out the foul-smelling liquid, but the hand forced them to swallow. Soon, their mind grew fuzzy, consciousness fading, the last sound a scream. To this day, they aren’t sure whose scream it was—perhaps it was their own.

Once again they were startled awake but only in mind, and as the nightmare released its grip, their heart pounded and its ghostly chill lingered. They stood shakily, making their way to the fridge with their loyal dog at their heels. Grabbing another energy drink, they set about cleaning once more, seeking a distraction until the sun's rays filled the room.