The End of the Story

Have you ever been left alone, abandoned or forgotten about? There is a sinking feeling deep down in your gut that tells you, this is it. Life will always be this way and you are not going to survive. For Elise, this couldn’t have felt more real than if reality had smacked her right in the face.

Sitting in the dark, cold room with a single window looking out into the vast, open fields of tall wheat grass for miles, was her only connection to the outside world along with an occasional newspaper slipped under her door for any messes she made whether it be human waste or spilling the slop that was considered food. She didn’t know who brought the paper, the slop or changed the sheets and bedpan without her ever leaving the room.

She looked around the dusty, dirty walls, the ‘fresh’ bed sheets if one could call them that and the light fixture dangling on the ceiling by a cord. It twirled and danced threatening to drop but never in fact doing so. She traced the walls with her fingers, allowing her bare feet to feel the coolness of the floor and focus on remembering the last thing she saw outside the barren walls of this place she was imprisoned in.

A warm breeze danced through the air, making her way around town, picking up kites and passing them around. The sun had set itself on a white, fluffy cloud providing warmth to all who were near. Children ran through the streets, rode their bikes and played ball while mothers hung laundry and fathers worked at the factory. Life seemed pleasant and peaceful. In one single moment, all of it was over with a loud boom filling the air with smoke, dust and debris and ears of all size and ages with a ringing. The factory was up in flames, limbs were landing from the sky and people were in panic. It wasn’t long after things began to settle, men in gas masks and armored trucks arrived bringing forth an army to gather women and children. Children cried out to their mothers. Mothers cried out for their children. The world was beautiful in one moment and at a standstill in the next. She stood watching the whole spectacle unravel when she felt a man covered in some hazmat looking suit and gas mask approach her and drag her to the back of an armored truck. She had little memory of what happened after. She only knew she woke up in a small room with a small, rickety bed, bed pan and wooden school chair.

Elise shook off the memory. She hadn’t talked to anyone since, she wasn’t even sure how long she had been at the place. She finished tracing the room and recalling the way her world ceased and looked out at the barred portion of her door.

“Hello?” She cried out, but no noise returned. “Why am I here?” Again, there was only silence and her thoughts. She watched the day fall into a deep slumber and the night arrived and took its place. Strange, large hands passed a food tray through the slot so she took her chance and approached.

“Why am I here?” This time, the figure looked at her and their eyes met for a second. They were cold, dark and intimidating.

“Soon” was the only response she received.

“What does that mean, soon?” She took her slop that was considered food and threw it against the wall. The figure came back.

In a more cold and calculated voice, the figure snarled, “This is the end of your story.” Elise looked horrified. She stepped back, shaking her head, eyes wide open. No, this couldn’t be. She had to get out of here.

“Please,” she begged. “Please let me go! Just let me go.” She pounded her fists against the walls until they were bleeding, crying and cursing a storm. Finally she collapsed onto the bed and cried herself to sleep. Although it didn’t last long, in her slumber she dreamed.

She was back on the same street, the sun was shining and birds were singing. The factory was full speed ahead, producing the town’s canned good products. Children were playing kickball, skipping rope and becoming artists with their chalk drawing. As she began to smile and feel the warmth of her sun on her face, a stranger came up behind her and grabbed her and all went dark. She woke up.

She hadn’t the faintest idea what time it was but light began to push the dark out of the way to make way for a new day. A new tray of slop was waiting for her with a small note that read: Eat. She looked disgusted. She wasn’t sure what would be worse, dying from starvation or from whatever mysterious contents this slop contained. Perhaps fighting a guard that occasionally fed her would end up in a deadly battle and he’d finally just end her life. She pondered the idea for a while, ate a little of the mush on her tray and paced back and forth.

Alone. No one to talk to but the voices forming in her head. An empty space both in the physical sense of where she was and psychologically inside her mind. She was left to fend for herself, to keep herself occupied, to die by herself whenever that dreadful day should come.

Eventually, minutes turned to hours, turned to days and months and even years. Elise slowly lost her mind but held onto the memory of what life once was. Some dark figure in a hazmat suit and gas mask brought her slop each day. Somehow by the time she awoke, her bedpan was cleaned, her sheets were changed and the same waiting and wondering would take place for hours.

As the years continued and her longing to want to die grew dim, there came a day when the door opened and stayed open. She remained on her chair looking out the window for several long minutes. The wrinkles in her face and on her hands folded over one another. The silver in her hair sparkled with the sun and her eyes drooped with defeat. When she heard a deep voice behind her say, “It’s time.” She didn’t move at first. She simply looked behind to see the same dark figure behind her, wearing the same hazmat suit and gas mask standing down an empty dark hallway dimly lit by two lights similar to the one in her room, dangling from the ceiling. She arose slowly, fragile and delicate like a flower. For the first time in decades, she left the room. She left the rickety bed, the piss pan as she began to refer to it as she grew older and the stack of newspapers she never bothered looking at. She made the mistake once of looking at them and realized the horror that was taking place; men had been taken off the face of the world and women and children were being locked in cells for the remainder of their lives..

The hallway was cool, dark and long but she managed to hobble herself down it to the figure who laid his hand flat on her back and escorted her out some door into a large field of tall wheat grass.

“You’re free,” the voice said. The old woman, known as Elise Olivia Addams, looked towards him. She never smiled, never said a word, stared. She just stared. All these years keeping her locked in a cell, a dungeon of sorts, kept away from a secret for so long. She turned away and began to walk. She walked a bit of a distance given her decrepit body, old age and sores from years of walking and pacing on a cement and cold floor.

When at last she came across a soft patch of the field where wheat grass failed to grow, yet there was soft moss, flowers and a flat place on the Earth to settle, she laid down. She lay on her side, admired the clouds, felt the breeze on her face and closed her eyes. She never opened them again. The world became silent permanently, her pain was erased and body became one with the world. Another body, another name to never be remembered, simply a memory of what was and no longer more.