The theft of life

Its all just a metaphor. Fiction but based on real events.

When the gunshot first went off, it sounded like the crack of a thunderclap before a summer filled with storms. However it wasn't actually a gun that disturbed the birds from their slumber. It was something even more vicious. I wondered often whether people thought I was the one doing the shootings and if they'll believe the actual truth from my mouth. The complete truth I'm afraid to tell. But it doesn’t matter anymore.

 

Three years ago, the world went dark. You know, like in the clique apocalyptic way. There is no sun anymore. The sky is blanketed by thick, dark clouds. There are no birds singing their morning messages to each other. It’s cold and every day it gets even colder. It’s uncomfortable and it's dreadful. All there is left, is the bad. The streets are full of bad people. Gunmen, rapists, terrorists, pedophiles. Every day there's a high chance you will walk past one of them and not even notice. They look just like your everyday person but there is something truly wrong with them. And I’m now stuck with them for what feels like eternity. I'm now locked in a cement box with bars as doors and criminals as neighbors. That’s why it got dark. My cell has a tiny window, of course with bars interrupting the view. Not that there is a view. All I can see out is the sky, no surprise, it’s the black storm clouds just lingering above. It rains often, especially when I’m things are bad. I bet you're wondering what I did right? I still don't know how I got here, it just happened. One minute I was at the racetrack and just like magic, I appeared here. I call here the pen. Now I know what racehorses feel like cooped up all day.  

 

Before I was imprisoned here, I worked at the racetrack in Hemlock, which is the city I live in. It is owned by good friends of my Dad. He died when I was almost 12 so I took over his position but as a trainee. I started going to the track with my dad when I was 6 years old. I used to pat all the horses and spend hours just watching all the activity around the stables. A man named Andrew, who managed the track, taught me how to ride when I was 10. He said I had a real talent. So I got the job as a trainee stable hand on my 13^th birthday. I loved the job. I even got to ride some of the older racehorses in the early mornings when no one was around. I felt so free at the starting gate. Of course, I wasn’t a jockey so I couldn’t do it too much or I’d get caught. But then it all changed and I appeared here.  

 

"Chloe, here's your dinner." The tea lady who smiles just a little too much, slides the tray of food under the thick steel bars.  

"Thank you" I mumble, trying not to be noticed. 

The food here is better than normal prison food which is strange. Although I haven't been eating much lately and have lost a lot of weight so they are forcing me to eat. If I don't, I will get sent to the 'locker'. No one ever says that word out loud here. It's bad luck. I've come close to going there. Never again. So I plough through my clumpy mash, peas and chicken and go back to my book. My days consist of either watching the same TV show over and over or reading the terrible books that they lend to the inmates. We have a common room for those of us who are allowed out of our cells. With games and activities, couches, and a TV with bad reception. I'm one of many who are allowed out of their cells, but I choose to never leave my pen. I’m the youngest here and the only girl. I’m only 16 years old yet they stick me with the old men and in the highest security prison so I can't escape. Everyone stares at me. Stares at my plump body. My thin hair and brown, innocent eyes. It’s not right for a girl like me to be here. So I'd rather stay locked up in my cell all day than have to associate with the others. 

 

Just as I'm about to go to sleep in my thin, 2 cm mattress with my one tiny cheap blanket, I hear a man shouting and not making much sense with what he is saying. It's commonly heard here. Especially during the nights, when everyone is locked up.  I often hear them shout out to the guards to let them out. People start losing their minds in here. But then I hear him coming closer to my pen. His voice getting louder and louder.  I know he's coming to my cell because I'm right at the end of the room. I abruptly sit up in my bed. I'm shaking, partly because I'm freezing cold and partly because I'm utterly terrified. It's dark and I'm too far away from my light switch so I wrap my blanket around me hoping it's nothing and that he's just a guard. It's silent for a minute. Oh thank god. I then hear my cell door rattle open. It's just the guard, it’s just the guard. I'm okay. I'm okay. Before I can even stand up, he grabs me by my shirt and tosses me to the floor.  

"You worthless piece of s**t! You deserve to die! You’re pathetic! Look what you’ve done to me! You’re sexy and you’re beautiful but you’re just a waste of space!” The masked man shouts. 

I can see another masked man come into my cell in the corner of my eye. But he's not a guard either. Where are the guards? Aren’t they supposed to be here when this happens?

He starts shouting at me too. “It’s all your fault! No one believes you!!”  

They both drag me to the corner of the room and start punching me in the face. My nose starts bleeding and my lip is split open, making me taste my own blood. They start spitting at me and kicking my stomach. I can't move. I can't even breathe. They fling me around the room and slam my head into the concrete. Just before I pass out, one of them points a gun at me. I'm too weak to say or do anything. I stare into the man’s eyes, through two eye holes cut out of a beanie so that he can see. I plead with my eyes, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

"Goodbye Chloe, I've been waiting for this for a long time. I can finally get rid of you."  

As he c***s his gun, I close my eyes. I hear two bone-chilling bangs but I'm still alive. Barely, I’m bruised, cut, bleeding all over and in a state of shock. I open my eyes and watch as both men who attacked me fall to the ground, blood spilling out of their chests and onto the floor. I see a lady in a black gown with a wig holding a rifle. My vision starts getting blurry as she runs over to me. It all fades to black and I think, this is it. I don’t even try to fight it. I’m done. I give up. 

 

I hear someone screaming my name but it’s muffled. Slowly it starts getting clearer  

“Chloe! Chloe! Wake up Chloe! Please. Wake up! It’s all over now. You can wake up now!"  

I force my eyes open but as soon as they open the heaviness is too much and they close again. After a few minutes I start to feel myself again. I feel the aches and the pain in my legs and have a rather large headache. I open my eyes once again and I’m able to hold them open this time.  

"Chloe. Oh Darling. You’re okay sweetie.” I see my mum looking down at me, gently stroking my hair. 

I’m on the floor. The carpet is that cheap grey carpet. Its firm underneath my body and making me itch. I slowly start sitting up and I see a number of people in the room. I have no idea where I am. Or what has happened. One woman stands out from the crowd in the room. She’s wearing a suit with hair that looks unnecessarily tidy. She walks over to me and crouches down to my level. Her face. I know her face. The moment she starts talking that’s when it all came rushing back. “How are you feeling Chloe? You scared us all there for a bit.”  

“I’m. ...I’m ....” I can’t form any words.  

The lady with the suit who I now recognize, is my solicitor. She comforts me. “It’s okay. You look a lot better now and the most important thing is that you are safe. It’s all over Chloe. You did it. This wouldn’t have all happened without you. You can rest now."  

I finally manage to blurt out some words. “I don’t understand. What’s happening? How did I get here? I....I.... I was in the pen...prison I mean.” 

“No, no honey.” My mum says reassuringly. "You weren’t the one in prison. Andrew made you think that. He made you think you were at fault. From the moment he first touched you at the racetrack he made you imprison yourself. You couldn’t escape from yourself because he wouldn’t let you. Inside your brain, he was still controlling you, even after it all happened. But you can let go now." 

It grows silent for a few minutes while they let me take everything in. I take a few deep breaths and gather myself. I feel like screaming, or crying, or running away. I feel like my life is has been a lie and I’ve been in a long nightmare and I still can’t wake up from it.

 

"We were in the waiting area when we finally got news that Andrew got sentenced 15 years for the rape and the number of assaults that happened to you. Just before he was sentenced, you fainted and fell onto the ground. You were out for an hour. I watched you fall and caught you on the way down and made sure you were still breathing. We were all very worried.” My mother tells me. 

 

The woman in the black gown, the woman in my pen who saved me. She's the judge. The man. It was Andrew and his lawyer, beating me till I was on the floor ready to give up. I remember everything now. All the memories come flooding back. All at once. I remember what happened to me. The years I spent at the track trying to help with the horses but being molested by Andrew the whole time. I remember the statements I gave. I remember the court case I gave evidence in. The attitude of the defense lawyer and how much it hurt me. I remember what my life was actually like when I thought I was in prison. I remember the feeling of being under threat. Having too look around every corner, eyes darting left and right, everywhere I went. Ready for anything to happen.  

 

Ultimately my mum was right. I wasn’t physically in prison.  But mentally I was. I was locked inside my own brain for three years. I couldn't see any good in the world. Depression and anorexia crept in without me even realizing it, clouding my judgement and pushing me away from reality.  I stand up slowly and see the most beautiful sight. There’s a large window. We are on the 7^th floor and the view is incredible. The sky is bright blue. I’ve never seen the sky as beautiful as it is now. It’s no longer dark. I see airplanes and birds soaring through the sky. Skyscrapers and buildings covering the city. I can see the racetrack in the distance. All the past, all the memories there. I think to myself, it’s the end of the race. I have won and it’s time to move on. I’m finally free. 

 

Reviews

[HeartInTheDark]

This story shows the pain and suffering of those with depression and PTSD in a very personal way, recounted rather than just the speculation of people who haven't experienced this, because of that its a really hard story to review. As someone who hasn't experienced such horror i cant say much, but i do realise that it would be extremely hard to live with such a thing. all in all this is a good story.