by Chai Cuppy
A humorous short story for my creative writing class.
We were trapped.
The walls felt like they were closing in, like starving lions cornering their helpless prey.
The air was heavy with fury and anticipation as we felt the seconds’ tick by, feeling like weeks passing, so slowly and excruciating.
I felt stabs of pain as I shifted position for the thousandth time, cramped into my own suffocating corner of darkness. I wonder if this is how a prisoner of war feels. Inside a metal cage, not knowing when you will be able to touch the cool outside world. To stroke the soft blades of green grass, oh what a wonderful memory.
But the passing world has become merely a blur; it stopped giving us hope long ago.
Hunger eats away at us, as if our own stomachs intend to devour themselves inside out, grumbling amongst each other about the lack of nutrition.
We hiss and snap at each other, like a horde of enraged crocodiles fighting over claimed territory, oh how pathetic we have become.
I feel movement shift in the outside world, as images begin to focus.
Can it really be happening?
We all breathe in a lungful of fresh air as those awful metal doors to our prison are thrown open.
Sweet, glorious freedom!
We run from our dark abyss, stumbling as our weak limbs struggle to remember how to function, towards the one place we know we will always be safe.
Running to the haven that housed our most dearly loved ones, where we knew a warm meal and soft beds awaited.
We had finally reached Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
(Seriously guys, from NC to OH with 7 people for 12 hours in one car. This is what it feels like.)