They asked him to confess…
He grouped his fingers together, tightened his shoulders, and ducked his head. What do they want him to confess about? He didn’t know. Searching the roof corners for an answer, he opened his mouth, but words didn’t come out. They thought he was stalling and he thought they were pressuring him. “Lock him up” a scream exploded in the cold room, with anger radiating more than a nuclear bomb does. Two guards grabbed his elbows and buried him inside the four walls. He tried so hard to wake up, but it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a reality that tasted more bitter than pain itself. The cruel iron wall screamed before blending in with the walls. He roamed the room, chose the wall that faced the failing attempt of what they called a window. There was still some daylight. If they finished with him early, he can manage to go back home and pretend nothing had happened. No one would know about this, only if he got out on time.
They called him back again. The screamed harder this time, as if it hated being apart from the walls. As if it wanted his company for ever. Grabbed by his elbows again, he ducked his head, and threw his tears down as he walked forward. Maybe he will follow them back to his cell.
They sat him on that naked iron chair. IT was as hard and cold as the eyes of the one who was waiting for him to confess. His lips refused to split up, his voice denied his authority and left him to suffer alone. They waited for his words to come out, and waited for the confession. His eyes focused on the floor under his feet, he folded his hands and sighed. They sighed back. The man with the hard voice got up from his chair, and left the room. That was not a good sign. He didn’t order his men to take him back to his cell, then why is he being grabbed by his elbows again and again???
There was the last drop of tears that he left on the floor. Why then were they taking him? That passage was dark, too dark, but his eyes embraced the darkness, only to make it worse. That passage ended with a door. An iron thick door, that looked like it was made only to open once for every soul coming through. They stopped. One of the guards moved forward, worked his hands thoroughly, and with massive strength, the door finally opened. The darkness inside was darker than all the black ideas that took shelter in his head. The guard that opened the door retreated quickly, and the one next to him pushed him forward. As if the guards feared that door as well. As if that door saved severe agony behind it, only to serve it to its unique trembling guests.
He was pushed harder, and forward until they threw him inside. This door screamed as well. Screamed louder and harder than any agonizing wound. The door united with the walls, thundering a slam like no other. It was silence that conquered his ears inside, only to be disturbed by his rapid heartbeats and consecutive attempts to breath. The passage was empty. The thick door was peaceful, stable and strong enough to terminate every and any voice attempting to break the silence…
5 رأي حول “Breaking the Silence “1 of 3””
you amazingLY expressed how breaking the silence is really hard 🙂 this is a masterpiece 🙂
Thank you so much dear. It’s not perfect I guess, but it tops everything I wrote in my opinion 😉
Nice work! I didn’t want to stop reading!
Thank you. You can check Captivity, it’s related to this one as well. Thanks for reading 😀