The Start Of The End

Unable to see, that’s fearful.

He could never have no eyes.

Unable to hear. That’s as bad?

No ears, that would be absolutely awful.

Unable to feel, probably not good but not as bad as not able to see.

No touch would be taken as long as the other senses were kept on.

These were thoughts that could make you mad and he was close to that.

The End Of The Start

That’s what the court and judge had ruled and now a padded cell would be home for the foreseeable future.

He had been arrested because people were scared that he could self-harm or harm others. They were scared for themselves and what they owned.

Manhandled by the law, a gaol cell was where he was put.

Then, after fourteen days he was taken to court.

Judge, Jury And Sentence

They never told the guy what charges he would have to face.

Thoughts were cloudy and foggy and made no sense at all.

When on the stand the judge glared, and asked the jury, after they stated what the man was accused of, whether he should be charged. They made clear what they thought and that he should be sentenced to the fullest extent. The judge agreed.

Hopes had been dashed for the man. The end was close, the end of freedom.

A Guest Of The Gaol

A padded secure cell was the new hom.

When the door was shut the dreams came. They were not pleasant. They were scary and hurtful.

They came whether he was asleep or awake, there was no escape.

He knew of Kafka and the hell that was now home could have escaped from Kafka’s thoughts. He had never been told why he was sentenced. He was almost ready to transform to a cockroach, tentacles and all.

Was he the one to blame? He was sure that he was not, but the judge and jury were sure. Had they been fed untruths? He had been kept from whatever he had been accused of and judged on so maybe he would be OK.

He heard screams, but though he may have made them, no one had come to check.

Four walls, a roof, a floor, a food panel, a bed, and a corner to was and defecate was the future now. The only contacts are gaolers and other employees.

Each day flooded became another and he had already lost where he was on the calendar. Had he been here for two days or twenty days? He felt he had lost all control and had to take whatever came.

He knew he was alone forever, removed from the former state and probably he would never return.

The dreams got worse and he felt that he was about to explode and end up as scraps of meat on the floor of the room, a mess for the staff to clean up.

He thought of escape, but the door to the cell was seldom opened. The longer he stayed the harder an escape would be and how could he become part of the world?

The Descent To Hell

He felt forgotten.

He had no defenders.

He must be an awful human. He had been judged. Could they be wrong? He had no hope. He had been sentenced and was now on a severe downward slope. No hope of a way out.

There could be no end, apart from death, but he pushed that from any thoughts because he had an angel of hope.

He had a barred gap through the wall. There’s blurred glass but only greyness shows.

He started to wonder, was there any way that he could escape the Kafkaesque Hell where he was trapped?

Though he was tempted he could not see a path that would lead anywhere but somewhere around the padded cell. he pounded the wall but just had blood on hands and forehead to show a useless reward, but he felt some release.

The bad dreams got even worse.

Blood vessels turned to venomous worms and erupted from the flesh, showers of ruby blood.

As days passed he knew that he had only one way out of here.

The sheets of the bed were drenched, blood and sweat.

No one came to clean up.

Hell Comes Closer

The smell got worse every day.

Real cockroaches and other horrors started to take over the padded cell.

They came through the walls, under the door, on the food tray, and he had no way to stop them.

When he led on the bed they crawled over and he wanted to throw up. The results were food for cockroaches and others.

He knew he was the source of the screams that he heard, but no one came. The screams fell on deaf ears, or no ears at all.

He wanted to burn the place down, but he had no paper or matches, though he knew there were flames down Hell, many collared men and women had spread that truth.

He was scratched to hell where the “guests” had helped themselves to blood, blood weaker by the day.

One day he woke and could son see. The cockroaches had taken and probably eaten the man’s eyes. That was what he had dreaded and had now happened.

He wanted the end to come before some other sense was taken. Though smell was maybe one he could drop, he knew the state of the padded cell.

Hours of torture turned to days of torture and he screamed. He felt them crawl to the mouth and he threw up once more, but that was just gas now.

He dropped to the floor and the guests partook of the flesh and they feasted.

Whether the gaolers were aware or cared was not part of the agenda for the felon.

They would clean the padded cell for the next one sent down from the court by the judge and jury. That was why they were employed there.

The padded cell was soundless and peaceful.

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