The Sun Gone Away

I am struck by the dismal nature of it all. Am I here for sure? My head is shrouded in the darkness of a hood and I cannot see. 


         I cannot see the damp walls, but I feel the pressure thickening as they close in upon me, like lions awaiting their prey and salivating at the jowls, a low murmur of overwrought hunger escaping their mouths.


         I cannot see the tamer, but I know he is there. His gaze blankets me, a veil of disgust and hate. I feel his eyes bore holes into my flesh, like a blade, warm from the fire of his ruthlessness and cruelty.


         I cannot see this place, but I can smell it. The odor of this concrete farm penetrates my nasal cavity like a javelin, a mix of rotten feces and old and withering flesh. The newly acquired food sitting restlessly in my stomach churns quickly, causing me to gag and cough. A feeling of absolute uneasiness washes over me, bathing me in sweat, thick and sultry. An eerie silence resonates throughout the hall. Not a sound is uttered but the ringing in my ears.


         
         But deep inside me, brooding with a low hum, something burns…

         

         I am led through the dark, stumbling over rusted toilet buckets filled with feces and other excrement. The tamer leads me step by step to my cage. The stench of mildew and dust perforates the stagnant air. I struggle to breath.  In one wild motion, the tamer pulls the hood from my head and walks out of the room. My vision blurry, I see the back of his body, a stout man of about five feet and five inches. The once threatening figure appears harmless now. I’m reminded why I am made to wear the hood.


         
         The stench becomes overbearing, and I feel the wicked burn of bile rising in my throat, and the wretched texture of vomit following it. My mouth opens and a deluge of stomach acid and partially digested food comes spilling out onto the floor. A filthy splatter echoes throughout my cage and into the hall. I hear the rabid footsteps of a tamer coming closer. I can feel his irate rage flourish through the air, breaking the wall of silence.  The thick wooden door at the entrance of my cage opens with an obnoxious squeal, and the bars behind it are unlocked and pulled to the side. The tamer comes into the cage with his foot long stick of wood above his head. Through the air, the tamer swings the stick into my side and knocks me to the ground. My body falls limp.



         With the tang of vomit lingering in my mouth, I awake to find myself lying in my own excretion. I attempt to lift myself but a tremendous pain plagues my head like a thousand locusts buzzing about my brain. I fall to the floor in anguish, holding my battered skull. Everything aches. I sigh and lay there in my vomit, a pathetic and helpless animal. The light above me pours onto the floor. My body is exempt from the hallowed circle. I lie cringing from the cold and the reek in the dark. 



         The stench once again takes hold of me. The process repeats.



         I awake. My eyes take heed to the small amount of light flooding through the opening in the ceiling. It looks like that of a cathedral. Images of the basilica of Saints Peter and Paul flicker through the caverns of my brain, stimulating me with the gorgeous memories of a life I once knew. Missing is the beautiful sound of children chanting. Instead I hear the silence of death.


         
         The tamer enters my cage and drenches me in water brown from filth. I am cleansed of old excrement and bathed in new muck . I watch as the vomit swells across the floor to the far wall, a wave of disgusting grime. The stench still lingers. Moaning, I fidget on the ground in the dirt, raising my hand to the tamer staring down at me. He spits on me, a glob of mucous and saliva sticking in my hair. Tiny tears fall from my eyes, and I wallow in the shadows like a dog, kicked, beaten, and stripped. The ragged cloth I wear scratches against my skin, like sand paper covered in volatile substance.



         
         The hum grows louder, burning incessantly…




         Hours later I gaze about my cage a stricken animal. My body begins to slack feeling loose and weak. This heap of skin and bone crumbles to the cot resting against the wall, and I lie down and feel myself drifting into a deep peace. My eyelids flutter, and I hear the soft beckoning of tranquil sleep. Above me, the fading light shines with an ethereal beauty. Out there, it is beautiful, where life floats on like a leaf carried softly on an autumn breeze. In here, I am shackled like a beast, lonely and afraid.



         The unrelenting quiet can drive a man mad. All around me I hear the faint sounds of men crying and slowly suffering in their anguish. Tamers strut back and forth, howling obscene orders and cursing our existence. When I am free, their crimes will not go unmentioned. They will taste my fury.



         Once again, the tamers have denied me my recreation. I cannot protest. All that I can do is sit here on this painful cot and dream of something better, a reverie for the sick and hopeless…



         I know that I am supposed to feel his heavenly light pour down upon me, and soothe me, and caress me. I feel nothing but darkness, cold and dense.



         Dust from the cracked walls falls onto my shoulders and my head, a pattering rain          of decrepit material. The foul odor from the cages around me emanates from the rest of the putrid and starving animals that cower in their dark corners and traverse the loneliness of despair.



         Not a single word is uttered, nor a cough nor a sneeze. The tamers lurk outside the cages pacing the halls, waiting to punish and whistling faintly. It is difficult to hear through the thick wooden door, and the old rusted bars behind it. Beneath the cot lies salvation, a black book covered in dust.


         I pick up the thick volume from its resting place on the dirt covered floor. Signs of use abound. Pages are torn and some pages stick to one another, tearing slightly as I pull them away. A strange tang emanates from the pages of the book as I flip through it, stopping to read sections of the text. 



“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."
Deuteronomy 31:6



         ….
         


         I am afraid and terrified because of the Lord my God. He has snatched my dignity.



         And silently sneaks a memory.
         A memory?
         Of someone else’s life.
         There is no other.
         This is it, a pile of ashes waiting to be swept away.




         The hum is strengthening/ from the burning a flame erupts…




         Between these four immense deterrents my body will wither and decay like a helpless creature trapped in a patch of thorns. I can already smell the disease crawling closer, lurching down the corroded hallway like a wretched and festering beast, howling with pain and grievance.



         The cathedral like ceiling above, and the window cut into it beckons to me the beauty of the outside. I thirst to taste the chill of the autumn air, and the smell of leaves and wet grass. I long to hear the innocent chirp of my children, and to see the blissful smile of my wife. I long to hear her speak to me in that voice, that soars through the air as graceful as a feather. I long to hear the fragile voice of anything living.




         The flame ascends...




         For once, it seems that the darkening world within my cage is opening to the vibrant rays of the sun. I am permitted recreation, thirty minutes to roam the yard like a sheep without a shepherd, able to see the world for myself for the first time.


         The other animals wander to and fro, bewildered creatures muttering to themselves quietly. There are no interactions and the silence is deafening. I plead with my eyes, shallow pits full of gloom. Please, someone speak. Someone say something. They continue to wander, their eyes absent of life. Drones, stripped of themselves.


         I amble about the yard, stumbling over small piles of dirt and rocks. The dirt displaces, and whisks into the air, a small cloud of brown residue. The rocks crumble into tiny pieces, and as I step they break down further into smaller and smaller particles. Mixing with the dirt, they flutter away into the wind, above the concrete walls and into the great wide world. I watch with livid envy.



         The whistle blows from the other side of the yard, a piercing shriek that wakes the catatonic beasts from their tedious walk.


         We saunter across the yard with our heads hung low and our eyes sunk into black rings. A calm autumn wind crosses the yard with leisure, refreshing my body like a soft dip in the lakes of my childhood.  I stop and succumb to the graceful chill. A thousand hands surround me and lift me from my drab little cage. My arms are spread wide, and my body mixes with the dirt and the rocks. They spiral about me like a tornado, and I sense myself merge with the origins of my beginning, of the place where pain and suffering knew nothing, and archaic life flourished about the earth like the brilliant light from the stars in the sky.


         Suddenly, there is a blow to my body. A tamer screams to me, his wild venom spit into my face like a vehement snake, stepped on and humiliated. Around me, the eyes of fifty men gaze with innocent wonder.


         The tamers shepherd  us into the cell block. We are donned in the black hoods to refrain from talking to one another, or looking at one another. We cannot observe the tamers, or see their shallow eyes.



         I enter my cage in the dark. In a split second I am given the beautiful view of the concrete walls and the iron bars. I sit onto my cot, beneath the only view unto the world. The light of God dims, and I know the sky is returning to the devil’s reign, and I am unafraid. Lying back, I utter a sigh to the day’s end.



         During the night, the animals in their cages stir restlessly. Through the solid concrete walls I hear the faint sound of one moaning as he masturbates swiftly, attempting to finish before a tamer’s attention is caught. 



         Across the hall, one of the animals is crying. Then, a sudden beating on the wooden door and a dreadful howl from the tamer. I hear the animal squealing in fierce pain, his cries rumbling throughout the night. Peering into my mind, I can see the others in their cages, their lonesome faces staring into the murky abyss. They sit drained of emotion. Screams continue across from me, and I cringe at every helpless grunt and cry. Slowly, I cover my ears with my hands and curl my body like a fetus. The crying subsides.



         Silently, I listen to the wind above me. There will be no sound from me tonight. As there never will be. I will remain quiet and abide. Function as I am told to function. Pray as I am told to pray. Be as I am told to be. The animal does as his master says, and I will do exactly that. On the outside, they will see obedience. On the inside, the flame burns endlessly. For life, for love, for hope. I carry the fire.