Monday, November 2, 2009

Watching Paint Dry

I sit on the floor, naked, and wrap my arms around my shins to expose as little skin as possible to the freezing air. Before resting my forehead on my bent knees, I sniff the air. It smells of paint. They must have a pretty good turnover in this place. A light high above me never seems to go off, making it impossible to sleep. Not that I could ever sleep here, anyway. I look up, directly into the light. Even the wire cage that protects the bare bulb has been painted stark white--very recently it seems; a single drop of paint falls to the cold concrete by my little toe. Muffled screams come through a small grill in the metal door. I hug myself tighter and squeeze my eyes shut. How long until my turn?

Anguished moans punctuate the sound of something heavy being dragged down the hallway beyond my door. Hunger pangs tear at my stomach like a pack of starving wolves. My head pounds—I have a migraine from the smell of the drying paint. My god, they haven’t even touched me yet and I’m already in agony!

A scraping sound comes through the grill in my door. Angelina screams, “No, don’t, no! No! Please! Oh God!” Then a solid, wet sound—as if someone punched a side of beef—seems to hang in the air. A sliding sound comes, then grows fainter and finally fades away altogether.

The light dims. Screams drift into my cell from somewhere not too far away. The light dims and brightens again and again and each time, screams invade my cell. I put my hands over my ears. The screams become animal-like grunts. My light bulb dims and stays that way long enough for me to count to fifteen. I wait for Angelina to scream. I count to a hundred and fifty, then two hundred, but I hear nothing. Maybe I missed it because I covered my ears.

Another soft swooshing sound comes near and nearer. The same scraping I heard before and then a loud crack. I imagine Angelina’s head hitting the white concrete floor. Another scrape and a loud, metallic slam.

Masculine laughter, then another scraping sound. A slice of the hallway beyond my door comes into view. I scream.