The Prisoner

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a quick idea I juat had, one of the 30min story types.

Submitted: May 30, 2007

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Submitted: May 30, 2007



The Prisoner.

I wish the pain would go away. I knew on the first day when they captured me that I was in for a bad time. When they beat me with their fists and the short lengths of heavy electric cable I knew that is just the start, to soften me up a bit. That's the reason they didn't ask me any questions, no point then when you are still strong. I knew that the cell I am in was deliberately made as bad as it is. The floor is just packed down dirt but they know I cannot dig my way out. The bare stone walls bake in the day and drip with damp at night. That first day when they gave me no food or water I took of my shirt and used it to trap the damp so that I could suck it from the material so now I am naked, and it hurts.

If they use the electricity again I know I will tell them anything. The first time when they clipped that metal clamp to my testicles I yelled with the pain of it but that was nothing to what happened when they turned on the current. I wanted so much to tell them, so that they would stop, but I held out. When I blacked right out it was such a relief but they kept bringing me around again, and hurting me. How long must I hold out before I am not held up as a coward ? Another day, another week ? And what then, I tell them what they want to know and all my mates die ?

Today was so bad. I wish I could sleep but they don't let me. The one with the beard sat making those tiny sharp sticks with his knife. He was so patient and careful. When he had a dozen or so they started on me again. I can't really feel my fingers much now. When they drove those slivers of wood underneath my fingernails I screamed every obscenity I could think of, but they couldn't understand me. But he kept on doing it, tapping on each one with the butt of his knife. They even tied my hands so that when I was back in the cell I could not take the pieces of wood out.

Somehow I got through another day and I really want to talk to them, I do. Let them ask me anything today and I will tell them, I know I will. They still haven't given me any food but if they did I would probably choke. The beating with those bamboo canes broke a few ribs I think because I can feel them and when I cough there is blood in my spit. I try to keep that side away from them but they know. Why don't they ask me something, anything ? They just keep hurting me and its too much.

They tried something new today. They put my ankles between two metal poles and then they beat the soles of my feet, for a few hours. I can only crawl now, I think my feet are ruined. I think I have been here five days now, I try to figure the time in between when they come for me. There is no light down here. If they ask me today I really will tell them, well I will try to tell them. I don't understand what they want. If I get lucky they might shoot me. I heard a shot this morning from the cell next door. They had a Red Cross worker in there, I know because I saw him briefly. He didn't have any eyes. They haven't taken mine yet but I suppose they will, sooner or later. Why did they tear out my tongue on that very first day ? How can I answer them now?  Maybe I could write it down but most of my fingers are broken now.

 wish the pain would go away.

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