The Grey Room. (standard:drama, 1411 words)
Author: Randy Osbourne	Added: Apr 12 2006	Views/Reads: 3348/2270	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man finds himself in a small grey room with no means of escape.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Still nothing. 

Anger overtook him and he slammed his hands on the door again and
yelled, 

“WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER ME?” he demanded. 

He did not expect an answer at that point, but he knew that he had to
try.  He looked around the room carefully.  He had heard that every 
prison had at least on means of escape.  He scanned the walls very 
carefully.  He searched for any crack or weakness in the walls of any 
sort. He searched for a very long time.  He saw no imperfection or 
damage of any sort in the walls at all. 

If there is no damage in the walls, he then thought, then I will just
have to create my own damage.  He figured that he had nothing to loose 
at that point, so he drew his right fist back and with all of his 
force, he struck it against the wall. 

Exploding pain quickly greeted him as his hand met the hard wall.  He
howled in pain and clutched his injured hand. He was sure that he had 
broken it, if not it was badly sprained in the least.  As some of the 
pain subsided a bit, he looked at the spot where he punched.  His hope 
was dashed out of his head as he saw that the wall was the same as 
before with no sign of any damage. 

He sat down and held his hand close to him.  It screamed pain at him as
he felt despair over take him.  He believed that all he could do was 
wait. A wait that he did not know if it had an end in sight. For all he 
knew, he could have been here for a few hours or even a day.  He didn't 
feel like he was hungry or thirsty which he found to be strange.  But 
food and drink was the very last thing on his mind at that moment. 

He tried to keep his mind occupied by remembering fond memories.  That
did very little good.  Whenever he attempted to remember something, 
there was only a hazy image at best that appeared in his mind.  The 
image it self was as if he looked through a very thick pair of glasses 
that he was not prescribed and everything was just a blur. 

He did remember some of the simpler things such as the alphabet and how
to count.  He had no idea what his name was or his age, or where he 
lived.  It was almost as if his mind had been erased and only a select 
few memories were left intact.  He felt the time drag on and on. He 
didn't know how much more he could take. He knew that he could just 
snap at any moment. 

In an attempt he knew would do him very little good, he got up once mare
and started to kick at the door. He shouted out a great many curses and 
obscenities as he did so.  No damage to the door. It was still intact.  
Not even a hint of a footprint was left behind. 

One thought then crossed his mind.  He wondered if he was in fact in
Hell.  He always believed that Hell was a flaming inferno where your 
soul burned and was tormented for all time. It was very possible that 
he could have been very wrong about what Hell was and that he was there 
at that very moment. 

He fell to his knees and sobbed.  He had no means of escape and as far
as he knew, he was alone.  He then looked up to the ceiling and yelled, 


“HELP ME! OH GOD HELP ME! PLEASE WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME?” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------- 


The woman sat by the bed as her husband laid there motionless.  He was
hooked up to an IV and his head was covered with bandages.  His heart 
and pulse and blood pressure were carefully monitored. For the past 
three hours since she heard that her husband was in a car accident and 
he was in the hospital there had been no change in his condition. 

The doctor informed her when she had arrived that he was in a deep coma
and there was very little brain activity.  The doctor believed that he 
would not make it through out the night.  The injury to his brain was 
to extensive so all anyone could do was wait. 

As she looked at her husband and held his hand, she prayed that he would
recover.  She also wondered if he could hear anything at all or if his 
mind was even active.  She would have never have guessed in a million 
years that the part of his mind that still functioned was trapped in a 
small grey room. 

The End. 


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