Freed

The constant dripping of water was starting to get to you. At first it was the only way of keeping time. The rymicthic dripping never ceased. 768, drops in a day. That meant 5367 in a week, and 20504 in a month. Drip… drip…drip 66, 67, 69… * no wait. 68* in that one moment, that one slip you’d forgot it all. I was up to 387068... right? Or was it 837068… 1

“Fuck!” you screamed out in aggravation as you kicked the leaky sink. * No, I can’t lose it; this is my only way of keeping things orderly, that way I'll know when ill receive another. And if I don’t revive one on time ill know... * A scraping sound withdrew you from your thoughts. You stared at where the noise came from, knowing what would happen next. Exactly 3 drips after the noise came… Or was it 5 drips. It didn’t matter, because in that instant you were blinded. A small door at the base of the wall slid open light flooded the room you blinked and looked around you. It was like discovering everything allover again. 2

The 5 by 5 meter cube that you were stuck in, the leaky sink, the loe, and crack in the wall, the small door, and the wall that moved every 20503 drips. As the small door slid shut you caught a glimpse of a perfect black shoe, and a bowl, containing something so horrid, something so vile that you dared not speak its name out loud. * Rations * you thought, and involuntarily shuddered. You crawled over to the bowl, unable to work the strength to stand and leaned over inhaling what ever it was. Gagging you forced yourself to eat it, you wouldn’t be getting another for, 634drops. 3

“Ha! I was right it was 387068… but what is it now? O shit.” You kept going over it I was on 58, then 4 drops later was the scraping, which means 3 drops later came… At this you gagged again… And since then its been 28 drops which means, in all its been 387164 drops since I came. Right?!? You were never too good at math. Just as you were about to assault the sink again you heard another scraping sound. You looked to the small door and wondered how long you had actually been thinking about the drops. Your eyes widened in fear. 4

“Did I lose track of the drips? But that means, that 634 drops have gone by. That means I hadn’t received another. Which means, she dead,” you muttered out loud. To your relief the small door hadn’t opened, and it was 7 drips later. But that meant the wall would open, and in that case not only had I lost track of the drips for a day, but for a month. Again you wondered just how long it took you to figure out the drip problem. 24 Drips later and you were still staring at the wall. And yet nothing moved. You looked to the crack in the wall and nearly cried out in joy seeing the faintest outline of something inside the crack. You crawled over to the crack and picked it up. You felt whatever it was in your hand. Soft, and smooth, foldable and wrinkly. Yup, It was your savior. 5

You crawled once more over to the wall the moved every month. There was just enough light seeping though for you to read another letter. Everyday you would receive a letter though that crack, and every time you received one you knew she was still alive. And that, my dear friends was the whole point of the drip system. To make sure that I received one everyday, at the same exact time, every single day. And if it was off, even by the slightest margarine then I knew it wasn’t her. As you read the letter to yourself you felt a single tear run down your cheek. So it was time. You sighed and crawled over to the loe, flushing the letter, watching it twirl down the drain. It was her time, and in … “O screw the drip system” you fumed. There was no point in keeping track anymore, which made you smile.. …In a few hours it would be your time too. 6

You went over her final letter in your mind. 7

“The one next to me, you know the one I told you about? The one who scratched the wall every other day? Ya, she was released an hour ago, or in your time, 32 drips ago.” I could almost see her grin as she wrote that, she had over heard you cursing every time you’d lose track of the drips. 8

“So soon it’ll be my turn, and then in turn, yours. I hope to see you. You know, out there. Though I probably wont know its you. Just ask every person you see if they were ever next to a girl who scratched walls.” Again I pictured a 23 year old, female grinning as she wrote 9

“Well, I’m off, All the luck in the world, or whatever’s left of it. ~Jostling”10

I smiled to myself as I thought over that she wrote to me everyday. Sometimes she would complain about the rations, or the scratching girl, sometimes she would ask what I thought the world would be like. (Though she knew I couldn’t answer, she was, as far as I knew, the only person able to sneak anything into her cube. I didn’t have a pencil, and the crack in the wall was too small to send anything but a small slip of hard toilet paper though.) But on the rare occasion she would speak of her family, these I enjoyed the most. 11

* You see, again, unlike the rest of us she came voluntarily. Her family said it was for the best, that she came, and she listened to them. She you would write to me, trash talking everyone of her family members, insisting that everyone of them had something to do with our, and every ones predicament. *12

And again, unlike everyone else, she could remember. And as far as you cared that made her God. However, she was the only one that had any contact with anyone. As far as you knew there was a huge building filled with 5 by 5 cubes with someone inside wondering what the world was like. 13

* You see love, no one in here, as far as I know had ever seen the outside world. And nor had I, as far as I know. The earliest memory I have is the dripping sound, and this cube and the rations. However, I know how to speak English, and the fact that I know history, and math (Well not math so well), and all other subject taught in high school. As far as I know, I’ve been here my whole life, though I don’t even know how long that is. * 14

“O great, I’m talking to myself” you sighed. I didn’t matter, because in about 32… In an hour, you’d be out of there. * I’m afraid I haven’t been clear; I know I'm not normal. From what I’ve been taught, humans are supposed to like these, rations. Which consisted of, a salad, tofu, and some sort of mint. I would never receive meat. Never. And by the fact that I was repulsed showed that I wasn’t normal. At first I thought I was just picky, but then I asked. The small door opened, and I started to complain to the black shoe about the rations. The only reply I got was a burly snort and a “Vampires, nothing’s good enough for them.” 15

The wall opened and with a smirk you rose, shakily to your feet and walked over to the space where the wall once was. You moved your hand in front of your eyes causing the sting of the light to die down. Unfortunately it also caused you not to see the blunt end of something very hard hitting your head. The last thing you heard before you hit the floor was that dammed dripping. 387222…387223…387224.16