The air was dry and thin, with a strong sterile smell of chlorine and ammonia. A man unaware of his fate, tossed and turned on a small cot. The toxic air began to burn his throat, nose, and eyes. His lungs began to seize as a dry cough ripped through his body as he tried to breathe the thin air.
The harsh thin air rushed back into his lungs burning the as it made its entire way down causing him to cough more, and forcing the hellish cycle to start again. His eyes began to swell shut with tears rushing down his face, mixing with the black and brown sludge that streamed out of his nose making a disgusting paste around his dry and chapped lips. He began to cough again and began to hack up whatever was in his lungs, and a horrid death rattle escaped his dry and thin lips.
The man lifeless on the small cot, finally looked like he was at peace. Gradually his eyes opened, squinting though swollen eyes he looked up at a pure bright light.
Did I die?
His mind began to race as his eyes began to focus.
Where am I?
Slowly he began to sit up on the bed. His body was stiff and sore each movement caused him to wince audibly. He began to look around. The bed he was sitting on stood in the back corner of the room, on the opposite wall were a small desk and chair, and at the top left corner sat a small toilet with a sink on the top of it.
Looks like I’m in a prison I think, but the whole room is too white, too clean. Man the air is so thin I can’t catch my breath.
His eyes slowly began getting use to the bright lighting of the room. He gingerly swung his feet off the bed on to the floor. A cold shiver went up his spine as his feet touched the floor. Pushing off the bed he stood up.
What a weird place?
A strange bolt of pain ran though his brain down his spine when he began to think. He fell to the floor in a heap clutching his head.
He tried to scream but only a soft raspy cry left his throat.
Why would someone do this to me?
Another bolt ran though his body and at the moment the man thought
Who I am, I can’t remember any…..
A much stronger bolt ran though him causing him to black out from the pain. Regaining his consciousness the single thought of survival entered his mind.
I need to get up I need to move, I need water, water will help me.
With that thought he slowly got up and worked his way over to the small sink. As soon as he stood up his heart began to race and his breathing became labored, his eyes began to spin as he tried to keep up with the dancing room. Each step became more herculean than the last.
One step at a time one step at a time
A task that under normal circumstance would have taken no more than 5 steps felt more akin to climbing Everest. He made it to the small sink, his reward though was not cool water splashed on his face but an uncontrollable wave a nausea that brought him to his knees, and with the last of his strength his body vomited. Phlegm, bile, air it made no difference it was exiting his body.
At the end of the fit he finally was able to claim his reward. Turning on the sink cool clear water left the tap. Cupping his hands he splashed against his face. The cool water was the first pleasurable thing he has encountered in this cell, but when he brought the water to his lips it tasted metallic and harsh.
It tastes horrible what did I drink?
Spots began to form in front of his eyes and he heard a soft laughter fill his ears before he could call for help he lost conscious. A sickening thud echoed the small cell as his head bashed against the sink as he fell.