The Tower

I see him there. In the middle of nowhere. I don’t know where we are. There is nothing for miles and miles. No roads, no electrical lines. Nothing. Complete desolation. There is only the two of us. Engulfed by silence, except for the occasional screeching and howling of the wind.

He is a brick tower. Tall. So very tall and squared off. When I look up from the ground I have to shade my eyes from the sun only to catch a glimpse of the top. Solid. Strong. Like a fortress. Implacable. There are no windows. Oddly, there is a door. Yet this does not surprise me.

I have always seen him this way.

Encircled by a metal fence, open but empty grounds surround him. There is no vegetation. Only dust that is carelessly and casually kicked up by gusts of wind.

We are separated by this fence, he and I. It is an electrical fence, and it is from behind the fence that I watch him. I cannot tell if the fence is to keep people out or to keep people in. I think it is both. It feels like both.

I do not know what is taking place inside the tower because no one ever enters and no one ever exits. If I were merely a passerby, I would think it vacant, but for some strange reason, I know that it is not. It is this knowing that keeps me there. Staring. Waiting.

I stand there outside the fence, watching the door. Sometimes with curiosity. Sometimes with desperation. It reminds me of a prison.

Although I know that it is an electric fence, I know I will not be hurt. So I lean against it and it is so very, very cold. The cold feels good on my skin. I press my cheek hard up against it so that it will make an imprint on my face. I feel so numb, but if I press my cheek hard enough, I think I will feel something. I want to feel something. I need to feel something. ANYTHING, ANYTHING, ANYTHING! But then something inside me changes. I begin to feel tension growing in my body. Agitated energy. But it is something and I will take it.

I take hold of the grates and shake the fence with everything that I have. I scream at the top of my lungs and from a place inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. I am hoping that someone will come out to find out what the noise is, that someone will hear me. That someone will help me. Maybe even save me. But no one ever does. Why not? How could they ignore me? It is then that I realize my screams are silent, because I am too much of a coward to hear them.

I fall to my knees sobbing. It comes from that same place the screams came from, but this time, my pain is not silent. It is loud. So loud, it pierces the air. It is the first time I have let myself hear it. God, I am so tired. I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep. I would sleep forever if I could.

I lay down on my side, staring through the fence. Staring at the door. The emotional exhaustion lifts and from some hidden place comes a renewed sense of strength. I don't understand it, but I welcome it and pull myself up to my knees, still watching the tower.

I begin to think about climbing the fence. I know I can climb over safely. I will not be electrocuted, but others will if they come too close. I consider this carefully because I am afraid of what might happen once I am on the other side. I am so afraid. But curiosity and desperation take over. So I climb.

Once I am on the other side, dust begins blowing in my face and in my hair, my eyes, my ears, my nostrils. I cannot see and am having trouble breathing. I cover my nose and mouth and eyes so as to not let the dust in. Abruptly, something feels very wrong. It stops me in my tracks.

I am exposed. I am vulnerable. I have the feeling that I may have trespassed and am being watched. I am overcome with extreme fear and do not feel safe. I am so scared. I think I am going to be murdered. It is as if there is an ghost watchman eagerly waiting to shoot me. My fear grows to the level of terror. I have no protection. At once, instinct takes over and I begin to run. Dust is swirling all around me. I can barely see the door, but I sprint towards it. Once there, I grab the door knob. It is locked.

It can’t be locked. It shouldn't be locked. I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to hide. This is my only chance.

I begin twisting the knob furiously, back and forth, back and forth, desperately hoping it will open. It doesn’t. Horror and shock set in.

Suddenly, at the pit of my stomach I realize something. It was there all along. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want it to be true. But now I know. There is no shelter.

1 comment:

  1. This creates such a feeling of anxiety, Carrie! WHEW! Friggin intense.
    I'm thinking Ingmar Bergman, really. Black and white with wind and greyness and dread.
    Man....powerful piece.

    You ok? :)

    ReplyDelete