The Prisoner

The heavy door groaned. The loud shriek of metal rubbing stone followed. The armored guard stepped inside. He bent and placed the tray on the floor. The loud shriek of metal rubbing the floor again. The heavy door clanged shut.

A bowl of soup. Half a loaf of bread. Another day. Another meal.

He came from the corner of the room. He drank a little soup. He ate some bread. Reserved the rest of the food for later. Unconsciously. Mostly by force of habit.

He stood up. He looked around. The cell was large. The cell was dark and empty. A small window high on the wall was the only source of light. A small carpet in the corner where he slept. Bare stone walls. Cold stone floor. The heavy door. Un-oiled hinges. This was his world.

He tried to think back. The memories were blurred. The events were so long ago. He remembered the court vaguely. The charges against him were petty. The verdict was harsh. He remembered that part. All other memories had faded.

He'd had these thoughts before. Today was different. Today, he felt enraged. The charges were very petty. He’d decided that he had been in this place enough. He was breaking out tomorrow. It was years in this place now and he was prepared to do anything.

He thought of a plan. He would break the bowl. He would use the sharpest piece as his weapon. He would stand behind the door. He would kill the guard. Stab him from behind. Then he could leave this place. He wouldn’t think of the repercussions just now.

He didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned on his threadbare carpet, in the corner of the cell. Tomorrow dawned at last.

He broke the bowl as planned. He held the shard tightly in his hand. He walked towards the door. It was about time now. He inhaled deeply. He steeled himself for the task that had to be done. There was no going back now.

The heavy door was within his reach. Time was moving even slower for him now. The only sound was his heavy breathing. He was sure that his heart had never beat that loudly before.

Suddenly, on an impulse, he pulled the handle of the door. The heavy door groaned. The loud shriek of metal rubbing stone inevitably followed. He looked outside. There was no one within view. He stepped outside from the cell. He passed two guards on his way out of the gates. They glanced at him once. They glanced away almost immediately.

He walked away.