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Trapped

Living In The Dark

By Jennifer BrewerPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
17
Photo by Ivan Aleksic on Unsplash. Altered by Jennifer Brewer via Canva.

I sit on a cot. Wrists shackled, they hang heavy, clamped to a chain which is attached to a wall made of damp, musty rock. I walk ten steps and it pulls tight.

The scent of damp earth and excrement fills my nose with every breath.

There is squeaking and scratching from above. My skin crawls. The hairs on my arms rise.

It is pitch black.

My idea of time is skewed. The darkness swallows me, except for a tiny light that flows through the keyhole below a knob.

It is a beacon of hope, tempting me to believe there is something beyond this chamber. An escape.

A lie.

A shadow passes by the door. Footsteps shuffle and drag on the other side. The light disappears as a key enters the hole. A click echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls.

The door groans open. Light blinds me.

An enormous shadow stands in the doorway. My eyes adjust.

I hear someone scream.

It is me.

Author Note:

Check out my latest short story The Day The World Turned Red:

Poem originally published on Medium

surreal poetry
17

About the Creator

Jennifer Brewer

Writer of Fiction and a spattering of personal articles. Mom, Wife, Book Lover, and Escapist.

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