Confession Room

Prompt (from yeahwriters.tumblr.com): [Write about someone who finds a room in which teachers and students have written confessions all over the walls]

He ran through the halls, ignoring the surprised stares of the other students, wiping tears from his eyes, trying to see through the splotches on his glasses. He turned down hallway after hallway until he found himself in a dimly lit corridor he had never seen before. Confused, he slowed to a walk. There were no doors in this hall; to either side of him were walls with layers of gray-white paint peeling off. A single lamp that seemed to be at the end of the hallway is the only light source. As he approached the end of the hall, he saw a single, ancient wooden door. The words Je suis desolé were ornately engraved in a half circle at the top of the door. It looked as if it were once elegant, but years have carved sharp scratches and ridges into the old wood. Tentatively, he tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. Wiping a stray tear from his eye, he decided to go in. Why not.

The room is pitch dark. He feels the wall, looking for a light switch. He finds it, and three feeble lights flicker on. It’s a very small room, about three quarters of the size of most of the classrooms in the school. It’s empty except for a lone, broken desk in the corner. He looks around, curious about this newfound discovery. There seems to be markings on the far wall, the one closest to a light. He starts to make his way towards it, but nearly trips and falls over something small and cylindrical. He kneels to pick it up. It’s a little flashlight. He clicks a little button. This flashlight is powerful; its light fills the room. He looks around him. All four walls of the room are completely covered in markings. In the light, he can see that it is writing; the walls are covered in ink from sharpies, markers, pens… and where there is no more space for ink, he can faintly make out words carved into the wall. He is so captivated by this confusing yet intriguing discovery that he nearly forgets about why he had found the room in the first place. Yet those thoughts still hover at the back of his mind, refusing to go away.

He continues on his way towards the far wall, careful not to step on the few old pens that litter the floor. This wall seems to have the oldest writing. Some of the messages are faded and barely legible. He begins to read. I’m sorry. I hurt her too, with everyone else, even though they never caught me. I’m sorry. I’m the one who put the final in his backpack. I’m sorry. I started the rumor and blamed it on her.

Everything written was an apology. Students, and teachers too, it seemed, letting out their deepest confessions. Some of them stemmed from “regular” high school drama. Other stories, some of them phrases, some long paragraphs… not so much. Each one started the same. I’m sorry.  

He made his way slowly around the room, reading all the messages he could make out. Students apologizing for bullying others, for cheating on big tests, for sneaking off to drinking parties, for going behind the old shack to smoke for the first time. Teachers telling of their own cheatings, of their infidelities, of their own experiences with drugs and alcohol. Sometimes, it seemed that both sides of one story had written confessions on the walls. Even in the stories that might have seemed to be black and white on the outside had guilt pervading all involved, including the victims. The stories seemed to span many years, probably alluding to stories as old as the school itself. He noticed that none of the notes had much in common with his own problems. The thought made him uneasy. His own problems weren’t important. They were stupid, really. It was self centered of him to think that way. He slumped against the wall, slid down, huddled in a corner of the room, his head buried in his knees. He curled up so tightly he heard his glasses crack, but he didn’t care. He half heartedly hoped his broken glasses would leave a gash in his face. He would deserve it, anyway. Why was he here anyway? A stupid kid overdramatizing his own stupid problems in his own stupid mind. A thought crossed his mind. Why was any of this here? What prompted all these people to scrawl their confessions on an old classroom wall? He lifted his head and sat up on his knees. He wiped his glasses on his shirt and noticed they weren’t broken. He stared at the writing on the wall in front of him for what seemed like an eternity, not really thinking about anything. The letters began to swim in front of them, some of them popping out at him. The whispers of the thousands who had been to the room before him seemed to come alive to him, all speaking at once so that he didn’t hear what they said but somehow understood it all the same. As if in a trance, he picked up a pen. A black sharpie. I’m sorry, he scrawled in a miraculously empty space. I’m sorry that I did that… to me.

He suddenly felt very light headed. He stood up slowly, letting the marker roll onto the floor. He walked towards the door, opened the door as if he didn’t see it. He went down the dimly lit hall staring straight ahead. Not once did he look behind him until he found himself at the bottom steps of the school’s library. All the other students hustled and bustled around him, not noticing him at all, as usual. But for some reason, this time, it didn’t seem to matter as much. He sat down on a bench and shook his head a few times as if he were waking from a dream. He cautiously rolled up his left sleeve. The slits looked like they were closing already. Looking at the ugly wounds, he decided to make a promise to himself. This one, he would keep. Never again. He wasn’t worthless. The thought seemed foreign to his mind. Not worthless? A part of him sneered. Are you sure about that? But this time, another part of him stood up to it. Yes. Yes, I am. He thought about all the other things he had done. Letting his nails grow long so that he could file them to points. The half legal substances he kept in the shoebox in the closet. Never again. None of it.

He rose from the bench with an odd feeling. Was it… could it be… a bit of happiness?

He never found that mysterious corridor or the room of confessions again. And that was perfectly fine.

Discovery

Let’s go biking.

Where?

Anywhere.

So we set off. It didn’t’ matter where, or in which direction. Just somewhere.

We turned this way and that, picking whichever route seemed to take us away from city sounds. Eventually we spotted a path that seemed to lead to a patch of green shaded by a ring of trees.

Let’s go!

It was a green river. We biked along it, admiring the surroundings. A single asphalt path ran along the river, which flowed to our left. Huge trees lined our other side.

Look at that tree over there!

It was a friendly looking tree, with branches that seemed to extend into our reach. We dropped our bags and bikes and started up. The wood was firm but felt soft, and reminded one faintly of foam.

It’s like magic.

We lay in its branches comfortably. It felt like we were sitting in the sky. 

Captured!

There’s danger in the air. I can sense the fear of my companions through every pore in my skin. The giants are coming, herds and herds of them. They come in waves, their shadows casting a gloom to fit the tension they bring to us. Some decided to sprint for land. Most of us make our way to water as fast as we can. I decide to follow the crowd to the pond; I can swim faster than I can move on land.

Once I am at a safe distance away from the giants, I look around me. The younger ones about my age are hopping around. Some of them are joyous to see the first sunlight after a long winter. Others are still freaking out and zooming around, unsure of what to do about the impending danger. I notice all our elders are still very well hidden, not making a single move, not even when the flies buzz around their faces. I wonder why they choose this strategy. Wouldn’t it be easier to be caught staying still? And why wouldn’t they enjoy the beautiful sun while they could? It had been a long winter, and I knew for sure that I wanted to savour every moment of sunshine. The elders, apparently, didn’t mind staying in the shade, waiting for what seemed forever. 

I watched as the giants began to disperse. Some of them stayed on land, while others headed directly for the pond where many of us were. Their large hands came down as they scooped us up and away. I watched as my comrades were taken, one by one. I couldn’t tell where they were being taken; the giants were too large and seemed to walk straight into the sun. When the giants come, they always take many of our people. Those taken eventually make their ways back to their families, but it is often after a long time and they return quite shaken up. I fear what the giants do with them. Remembering all this and all the stories I’ve heard about the giants, I resolve to stay put, far into the pond where they rarely come. I sit and watch for a few more minutes. A fly comes by, but remembering the elders, I stay still. I can let one fly pass peacefully. More and more of my comrades are taken. The giants may be large, but they are also fast. I watch as a cousin swims frantically away, but is caught in the giant’s cupped hands. A sibling hops around on the bank of the pond, but isn’t fast enough to escape another giant’s grasp. As I watch, I notice a patch of sunlight not too far away. Right now, I’m sitting in some shade. It’s getting rather cool. The sunlit patch is starting to look awfully comfortable. I wonder if it’s worth the risk. Swimming towards it would make me more vulnerable to the siege. After a short internal debate, the sunlight wins. The winter has been so long; I’m afraid of giving up any part of spring. I leave my hiding place and make my way to the sunny patch. I sit there for a while, enjoying the warmth. I face away from the chaos, not wanting to ruin my perfect moment with mild bouts of guilt about not caring for all my companions. It’s not our way to be empathetic. In our world, it’s everyone for himself.

As I get lost in these musings, I don’t notice any of the sounds that come up behind me. All of a sudden my sunny spot disappears, and I am shrouded in shade. I give a cursory glance up, and see a large hand hurtling towards me. I try to make a break for it; I’m not too far away from the pond. Perhaps if I swim away fast enough, I can escape…

It’s no use. A wall comes down in front of me, as if it fell from the sky. I look around. The darkness is closing in on me. There’s no way to escape! Suddenly I am in the giant’s hand, hurtling towards the sky. I jump around in my prison cell, trying to kick my way free. I see an opening and hop towards it. Suddenly the walls of my prison change. The whole thing is tilting up! The opening that used to be to my left is now right above me, and I lose my balance for a moment and fall backwards. I instantly get back onto my feet and try to jump for the hole. I grab a hold of the edge and feel the ground, or whatever this prison is made of, shake under me. I’m travelling very fast, faster than I’ve ever gone. And then, I’m thrown through the air. I land on top of another one of my people. It’s the cousin I saw get taken a while back.

Where are we? I ask him. He doesn’t respond. Instead, he just clambers up from under me and tries to get on top of the others that are caught in this larger prison. Our prisoners are everywhere. Some clamber on top of each other, trying to reach the edge of our prison. Others sit quietly in the center of the prison, having lost all hope. I am unsure of what to do. Once again, I follow the crowd and focus my attention on getting up and out. It’s not use; once one of us gets near the top, a huge finger comes down and pushes him back down. I stop struggling, ready to give up. I wonder if I’ll ever see the pond again.

The giants stick their huge, ugly faces in at us. There are flashes of sunlight, but they give no warmth. I am confused by the odd flashes. Some others tell me not to think about them too much. They’re just dark magic instruments the giants use.

It seems like I am in the prison forever. Every now and then I give a half hearted attempt to clamber out, but every time I see another’s attempts prove futile, I find myself giving up hope as well. The fake sunlight flashes continue.

All of a sudden, a huge wall comes down again. It comes towards me, scooping me and three others up and out all at once. What’s happening now?! I have no choice but to succumb to the giant’s power. The others try to jump out at once. One makes her way to the hole in the small prison wall and jumps. The rest of us watch as she flies out and falls into the abyss below. No one knows how far up in the sky we are, or what the fall led to. I wonder if she will survive. The others still in the prison with me pretend not to notice.

Again, I’m travelling extremely fast. Wind comes in through the hole of our prison and blasts me in the face. Then, just as quickly as I had been lifted into the sky, I am plunged back towards what I hope is the ground. After going through so much tumbling, I’m not sure which way is up. The prison opens and I see that I am back in the pond. My companions rush away as fast as possible, before the giant changes its mind and closes the prison up again. For a few moments I am stunned. I’m alive! The floor of the prison moves, and I, too, jump off and swim away as fast as possible. I make it back to my original, shady, safe position. The herd of giants begins to clump up again and walk away. I let out a sigh of relief, and feel the apprehension and fear evaporate from the atmosphere almost as quickly as it came.

I’m glad to be alive. I understand why the elders decide to keep hidden. That was a little too much of an adventure for a little toad like me.