The Glass Box

SAMI STRAYHORN fction

I got sentenced on October 12. And since then, my days have been identical. Get awoken by brutally bright lights and terribly loud tourists. Spending my day pacing the room. Staring out into the crowd of strangers that are captivated by my existence. Getting fed food that should be illegal to give to a human. Then tossing and turning in bed for hours, waiting for the darkness.

Accepting how I got here was the hardest thing I have had to do. Laying in bed staring at my ceiling. The stark white in contrast with the black rimmed lights. Accepting responsibility. Accepting myself.

My trail of thoughts was rudely interrupted. A knock at the only door in my cold glass box snaps me back to reality. I yell

“Yeah?!” questioning why anyone would think it’s ok to interfere.

“Breakfast is here!” A cheery young voice yells.

“You can come in,” I say as though I even have a choice.

Skin as smooth as an untouched body of water. Hair silky and the perfect shade of blonde. Carrying a tray displaying my delicious meal of unflavored oats and a single orange. Unsliced. But right now I am not focused on this terribly bland food. My eyes are fixated on the beautiful woman in front of me. Her eyes shimmer in the natural light that peaks through the door. Her perfectly structured face offers me a pitied, fake smile. Sighing, I thank her quietly and close the door behind her.

As I am closing the door, I feel the fresh air from outside and can’t help but take a deep inhale. This air chokes me. The extremely polluted air is nothing like the crisp air from my present. The past. The futures have destroyed our already suffering environment. Artificial trees are planted in an attempt to raise oxygen levels.

I almost pity the Future’s. Children growing up with nature only being a thing in textbooks. Them researching the 2010’s, learning about real plants and how we have things like beaches. Not the tacky, fake beaches I learned they now manufacture. The joy of standing in the sand, feeling the real ocean water cooling off your legs. I almost pity them. Almost.

It’s hard to pity your enemies... read the full piece here...