So Maybe I have realized that things are possible. But finding that out made me feel even more alone...
*The later in the night it got, the more her mind began to take over. Two hours ago she could have told you the names of atleast 3 people who she considered her friend. Now, as the monitors continued to flicker, she could name only one.
Years ago Jenna had many friends. But, when a person gets older they aren’t supposed to have a group of friends anymore. Everyone begins to pair off, get married. It happens slowly. The first of her friends go get married was first greeted with shrieks of joy and millions of questions about where, what time, what are you having on the alter, can I help you look for your dress, what will your vows be…, but then, quietly questioned be each member of the group individually. All raising almost the same questions: Are you sure you are ready for this? Your life will change forever. Do you really love him?
After a few months everyone began to accept fate –accept what was happening to their friend. She was indeed got married, moved into an apartment with Chip, or Bill or whoever it was and basically disappeared.
It was not too far after that first friend dissapeared that another announced plans of Holy Matrimony. And suddenly as Jenna sat in her chair enclosed with bullet-proof glass at 2 am she could only think of 1 person who wasn’t headed down that path. Who wasn’t going to play the only hand that would be good enough to win her freedom from the group. And this was only 2am. She knew that 4am was absolutely the lonelyest hour of the night.
By 4am she probably wouldn’t have any friends left at all.
Thinking about this again wasn’t doing her any good and she knows it. “Not this again. I really need to stop this. Fuck.” So she stares back at the monitors, hoping they will be enough to keep her mind at bay for another night. “All right you crazy sons-of-bitches, it’s your turn to keep me from going crazy in here. After all, it’s you guys who keep me here. So really it’s the least you could do for me. Right? Don’t you owe me something?”
And by 2:23am Jenna had begun making up who the man sitting in his room in monitor 4 was.
Grabbing his chart from one of several avacado green file cabinets surrounding her “work station” she takes a refresher course in what appears to be Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - OCD.
“Well old fella, you don’t seem to have it too bad, don’t have that much troubles. Let’s see why they put ya in room 4 tonight” she would think out-loud turning the pages in the file. “Let’s just see how crazy you are.”
The area that monitor 4 displays is a small room. The camera must be mounted in the celing, in one of the corners. She can see the bed, (really just a mattress layed out on the floor - no box-springs or bed frame in room 4) a window that is too high for him to see out of, but will let some light in during the day, the toilet (that, of course, has no lid or seat, just a basic steel tube sticking out of the floor with a button to flush it sticking through the wall above), a mirror on the wall next to the flush button and the door (that is locked with a dead-bolt as well as an electro-magnetic lock that can only be opened from inside the monitor room). Next to the bed there are a few indentions in the wall that act as shelves for 2 books. They look like paperbacks.
Finnishing looking though Mr. Turnley’s chart she puts them back in their place and returns her attention to monitor 4. “Hello Mr. Turnley. Who is this man, this Mr. Turnley? What path did you walk to end up in Room 4 of this shit-hole? And why in the fuck are you sleeping? No one sleeps in room 4!!”
*The later in the night it got, the more her mind began to take over. Two hours ago she could have told you the names of atleast 3 people who she considered her friend. Now, as the monitors continued to flicker, she could name only one.
Years ago Jenna had many friends. But, when a person gets older they aren’t supposed to have a group of friends anymore. Everyone begins to pair off, get married. It happens slowly. The first of her friends go get married was first greeted with shrieks of joy and millions of questions about where, what time, what are you having on the alter, can I help you look for your dress, what will your vows be…, but then, quietly questioned be each member of the group individually. All raising almost the same questions: Are you sure you are ready for this? Your life will change forever. Do you really love him?
After a few months everyone began to accept fate –accept what was happening to their friend. She was indeed got married, moved into an apartment with Chip, or Bill or whoever it was and basically disappeared.
It was not too far after that first friend dissapeared that another announced plans of Holy Matrimony. And suddenly as Jenna sat in her chair enclosed with bullet-proof glass at 2 am she could only think of 1 person who wasn’t headed down that path. Who wasn’t going to play the only hand that would be good enough to win her freedom from the group. And this was only 2am. She knew that 4am was absolutely the lonelyest hour of the night.
By 4am she probably wouldn’t have any friends left at all.
Thinking about this again wasn’t doing her any good and she knows it. “Not this again. I really need to stop this. Fuck.” So she stares back at the monitors, hoping they will be enough to keep her mind at bay for another night. “All right you crazy sons-of-bitches, it’s your turn to keep me from going crazy in here. After all, it’s you guys who keep me here. So really it’s the least you could do for me. Right? Don’t you owe me something?”
And by 2:23am Jenna had begun making up who the man sitting in his room in monitor 4 was.
Grabbing his chart from one of several avacado green file cabinets surrounding her “work station” she takes a refresher course in what appears to be Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - OCD.
“Well old fella, you don’t seem to have it too bad, don’t have that much troubles. Let’s see why they put ya in room 4 tonight” she would think out-loud turning the pages in the file. “Let’s just see how crazy you are.”
The area that monitor 4 displays is a small room. The camera must be mounted in the celing, in one of the corners. She can see the bed, (really just a mattress layed out on the floor - no box-springs or bed frame in room 4) a window that is too high for him to see out of, but will let some light in during the day, the toilet (that, of course, has no lid or seat, just a basic steel tube sticking out of the floor with a button to flush it sticking through the wall above), a mirror on the wall next to the flush button and the door (that is locked with a dead-bolt as well as an electro-magnetic lock that can only be opened from inside the monitor room). Next to the bed there are a few indentions in the wall that act as shelves for 2 books. They look like paperbacks.
Finnishing looking though Mr. Turnley’s chart she puts them back in their place and returns her attention to monitor 4. “Hello Mr. Turnley. Who is this man, this Mr. Turnley? What path did you walk to end up in Room 4 of this shit-hole? And why in the fuck are you sleeping? No one sleeps in room 4!!”
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