Trapped

TRAPPED

Enclosed alone in the dark for almost a year. No wonder we enter the world screaming.

“Don’t close the door, mummy.”

“Don’t draw the curtains, daddy.”

“No, I won’t play hide and seek.”

Childhood nightmares. Locked in the clothes trunk, sinking in quicksand, imprisoned in a windowless cell.


Overcrowded classrooms. Don’t sit so close to me. Clear the path to the door.

“I can’t go to the cinema.”

“I don’t want to go to The Dungeon.”

“Don’t make me walk the corridor alone.”

Adolescent nightmares. Crawling in drains, struggling to breathe in caves, trapped in an elevator.


Heaving parties, dance floors, shopping centres. Have to get out. Don’t walk right behind me.

“Seventh floor? I’ll take the stairs, thank you.”

“I’ll put it back; I can’t stand in that queue.”

“Fetch me a drink please. I can’t leave this seat by the door.”

Adult nightmares. Working in a coal mine, going blind, locked in department store basements.


Family expanding. Every room occupied. Nowhere to escape.

“No, we can’t have a lock on the bathroom door.”

“Will you stop trailing after me wherever I go?”

“Just give me some space please.”

Mid-life nightmares. Potholing, caught in crowds, ensnared in a cage.


Retirement home. Invasion of privacy. Waiting for God.

“But I need to walk outside.”

“Don’t lock me in please.”

“Just leave me alone nurse.”

Old age nightmares. Locked in the lavatory, crawling in tunnels, thrown into a padded cell.


Last lap. Losing the battle. Any last requests?

“Don’t put me in a box please.”

“Don’t nail down the lid.”

“Don’t put me underground.”

The ultimate nightmare. Encased for eternity, alone in the dark. Unable to even scream.