Tight Space

Tied and bound in a small room tall enough to stand but not enough to turn, escape I yearn, ropes start to burn as I wriggle and twist and turn, in discern. Dark place, no space, just me and the fear of closed in space, darkness in front of my face sets my brain running a pace.  Panic sets in as I wriggle and squirm to try to get free from this room so wee. Exhaustion follows as super human effort does not succeed and my wrists start to bleed, my mind starts to plead. 

Then there is a bang a chink of light cutting the dark of night. In through the top comes a piece of meat, raw and not fit to eat. I scream, the lid slams shut, trapped in a box like a mutt. I smell the meat it’s raw, gathering dust on the floor, I start to heave with every breath I draw, desperately wanting to find a door. 

I decide not to eat, my body starts to ask for a treat, water needed but none about, I dream of a beer if I get out. My body is weak my thirst is bleak, I may not even last a week. I may be caged in body but am free in mind able to think and go into my mind. I think of nice things of better days, reciting lines from films and plays. I loose track of all the days, just sitting there staring a gaze. Flies start to swarm like gnats before the storm. Putrid food rotting on the floor, smell a fowl stench of rotting flesh and decay. I lean on the wall waiting for what’s at the end of it all, given up hope of getting away, in this box I must spend my last days. Hallucinations come and go in the dark, madness tearing me apart. My body week and breaking down thirst and dehydration come around. I close my eyes and wait for coma to descend and my body to meet this tragic end.