Static, and voices, thousands of voices. All languages, yells, whispers. Her eardrums are blasting, the deafening sound tearing her apart. She passed a headache when she first woke up. Her ears are exploding and no one can hear her screams and pleas for help.
Bright lights are blinding her, all around her. The colours of the rainbow and beyond. Words erupting around her, letters are spilling in front of her eyes. Bright, bold, dull, dark. The constant changing colours that have no pattern confuse her. Her eyes are cloudy and no one can see her terror.
Metal, the taste fills her mouth. The flavour as permanent as a tattoo. Swallowing is difficult, parched. She can’t swallow, her breathing is fast and unnatural. The inability the refresh her mouth with liquid is slowly killing her and no one can hear her breathing as if it each may be her last.
Burning, something is burning. As she inhales the smoky flavour, she gets whiffs of perfume, food, freedom. Rose, smoke, lemon, smoke, hope. Each new scent that fills her, breed’s misery. The variety of aromas is astounding but no one can smell the blood on her clothes.
She reaches out around her, walls, glass. A small box, and she knows she is trapped. She places her hands on the glass, it warms. Just a finger, it cools. She tries to slam herself through the walls of the box. She knows it is strong and no one can feel her shaking.
She hears final words, and sounds disappearing. She sees screens images, scenes disappearing. She tastes blood from biting her tongue in anticipation, drying in her thirsty mouth. She smells more burning now, nice memories of meals disappearing with each scent. She feels the walls cooling down, and the heat starts to leave her body.
As the final screen disappears, and the smoke is choking her. She hears the ladies last words replaying in her mind… “There is nothing for you here.” And the television is turned off.