Jurassic jail. P 1

I woke up crooked on the floor of a very small metal box. All was dark, I couldnt see or feel anything besides the cold metal on my sweaty skin and the loud thumping of my heart in my chest.

Where am I? I didn't remember anything.

I could taste my own fear. The salt of my terrified sweat in the cold damp air. In fact it wasn't only cold it was freezing.  I huddled myself up to try to retain some heat. The metal and my very thin clothing was no help.

I wish I could see where I was.

I felt the walls that surrounded me trying to find some sort of latch or door.  There didn't seem to be anything at all except the solid cold metal under my fingers. The back of my head throbbed so I lay back down. With my ear pressed against the floor my heart beat echoed louder in my head. Bum da dum. Bum da dum. Bum da dum.

The seemingly infinite blackness went on. Time seemed to dissapear all together until I lay in a state of half sleep, in past present and future at once.

My stomach began to knot. I don't know how long I lay like that but the pains in my abdomen continued to grow. On and on until they consumed my thoughts. My mouth became dry, my throat parched. I needed to find a way out or soon I would surely die. If I didn't run out of air, I would soon die of dehydration.

Again I searched the box for something, anything to escape. I thrashed and screamed desperately. But if anyone heard me they gave no sign.

Finally, I gave up.

I hummed to myself to distract myself. I hummed songs I knew from my childhood. My mother see to sign me songs as I fell asleep at night. She would curl up next to me in the small single bed on the floor of our small living room and brush my hair back as she sang in my ear. Sometimes, if we couldn't afford food that day, she would sing extra loud to keep my mind away from the pangs.

We never had enough money and whenever I would catch her sitting at our broken up table crying I swore to myself that I would make a better life for her. I swore that I would be a man t protect her. I would never leave her.  Not like everyone else had.

Life didn't happen quite how I imagined it though. Reality is squeued in the eyes of an eight year old boy you see. When I grew up I got a part time job after school to help get money for my mom and I. Eventually, I quit school. Soon enough I found myself in with the wrong people. I knew that the gang life was bad. But it didn't matter. I had a family now. People who would look out for me and my mom. And the money got better.

I caught my mother crying only once more. And it was the day everything fell apart. The day my life was over. The day I left her for good.

A loud thud outside the box interrupted my thoughts.

"hello?" I screamed. "Hello!!!?"

No one answered. I leaned my ear against the walls. I could hear little movements outside. Maybe they were my imagination. But I wouldnt lose the chance if they weren't.

I smashed my fists into the metal. Shouting and screaming for anyone's help. All the noise didn't seem to penetrate the darkness of the box. It all seemed futile and ad my throat began to feel  ragged and stripped I stopped.

No one came.

No one cared. Not for somebody like me.

I began to sob. Overwhelmed by everything that had happened these past months. I cried for the boy. I cried for my mother. And I cried because I was scared of what was to come. Scared I would die here. Alone.

***

I awoke to the grinding sound of metal on metal.

The door opened with a blast of light and I collapsed to the wall covering my face.  I couldnt see what was going on because the light was too blinding. I felt hands grab me from the box and throw me forward on the hard earth. Sand. I felt.

Slowly I was able to open my eyes and saw that I was surrounded my a group of men. Ragged and unkept. Their clothes torn. Looking like no one had showered in years. They all looked very rough.

My Story

Who am I? Where do I come from? What's my story?

Well, this blog isn't about that. This blog is about what story I have to tell. I've been writting for years. I've written two novels so far, and am working to get one published. I've been published in 2 newspapers. And I won the 3rd place for youth short story in the National Capital Writing Contest 2011.

Writing is a passion and I'm going to use this blog I express some of my writing updates. The ideas I happen upon, my hopes and goals for my writing and more.

Enjoy!