I never thought I was claustrophobic until I was trapped in what I could only describe as a concrete box. I sat alone in my jail cell with nothing to do but stare at the four white walls that surrounded me; the paint on them had chipped off with time or was clawed off by other prisoners: something to keep busy as they gradually gravitated towards insanity. My already awful headache worsened as the fluorescent light bulbs flickered on and off; the lighting of the cell was as dim as the tortured souls that sat in them. Having nothing to do but gaze blankly at the walls. Nothing to live for. How did I get here? It made me laugh, thinking about how this morning and now felt like millennia apart.
I had the world to myself that morning. The countryside as I sauntered through it was deserted and still. The sun was an incandescent, all-watching eye, its light slithering into every little crack soaking the world in a warm glow. At first, I was skeptical of spending my summer in the country, but I enjoyed the tranquility. It was a splendid change from city life; like my own little alien world. It was stretched out before me like a thick blanket of dark green that seemed to go on for an eternity. It mounted and descended like waves in a mighty ocean, and its turns and loops laid in front of me like a heavenly fingerprint. No part was like the other. I turned back and headed to the house. Like the countryside itself, the house was very welcoming; moss and ivy grew through the fissures in the miniature structure, yet it was beautiful.
Evening had fallen and I stood at the balcony to watch the sunset. The yellow ball of fire cast its golden rays upon the clouds, turning them bright red; fire red.
“Elsa! Come here please.” My mom called from her room.
I made my way to her quarters.
“Are you sure you can stay here alone?” She asked.
I shook my head in amusement; my mom’s emotions were not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her concern was evident in the crease of her brows and the crinkling of the skin around her eyes. Those eyes. Her eyes were of the most pallid watery blue; it was as if she had spent her entire life being in an everlasting shadow. They were almost hypnotizing.
“I will be fine mom don’t worry,” I assured her.
After she left, the house felt emptier than a crypt. Time’s pace was slower than that of a somnolent tortoise and I felt like I was slowly going mad. I checked the clock and groaned; only a minute had passed in what felt like an hour. I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to go for a walk.
The street had numerous transitions, grey and cracked with age. My ears perked up at the sound of distant music, I knew it might have been a bad idea but I followed it anyway. I came to a halt in front of a house; the house was a series of rectangles constructed of wood, steel, and glass. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates; I stared at it in awe. Yet it had an eerie gloom to it, unlike the beautiful saplings that decorated the country, the trees around it were gnarled and resentful.
“You going in or what?” A bulky security man with legs the size of an average adult’s waist asked.
“I don’t have an invitation,” I replied
He chortled lowly, “Everyone is allowed into this party.”
I was reluctant yet curious.
“Sure,” I said before walking inside.
As soon as I entered I knew it was a mistake. The music boomed like thunder, blinding neon lights flickered on and off giving me an instantaneous headache. The house, although huge, was so full of people that it was as if I was just looking into a vast ocean of bodies. The floor was slippery with sweat, spilled drinks, and some other indistinguishable liquid. I watched with a kind of amused horror as people staggered around completely disoriented, bobbing their heads erratically like it was too heavy for their skinny necks. They reeked of alcohol so harsh that it burned the inside of my nostrils as I breathed it in. Some doubled over and threw up on the ground. My insides churned with disgust at the realization that the third indistinguishable liquid on the floor was vomit. I felt like the only adult in the midst of infants.
Alcohol was not the only harsh smell I picked up, smoke particles swayed in the air making my lungs feel dirty and blackened, it wasn’t the type from the exhaust pipe of a car. I could smell the tobacco, and I knew even when I left here the smell would cling to me like a child onto the bosom of their mother. Amongst all the maddening noise it was hard to make out the sound that caused my heart to sink down to my stomach. Police sirens.
“Oh no,” I whispered, I knew I was done.
By: AKOSUA A. ADDO
INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY SCHOOL(ICS)
KUMASI, GHANA.