I’m writing from my confines at this moment. I hope they cannot see me. I thank God for this piece of charcoal. I’m writing on the underside of the fabric this prison floor is made of.
Anyway. I should start from the beginning.
The first thing I remember is being chained to a pole and lying prone on a platform. I had tried cutting through the restraint but it seemed to be inserted into my arm. And I hadn’t the strength to pull away for some reason. I suspect that the restraint doubled as a tube to suck out my blood in order to leave me weak and unable to function. Whatever it was it worked. I couldn’t escape and then I think I dozed off from the fatigue of losing my body fluids.
The next few months I was forced to wear a sort of straight jacket that covered my whole body except my head. It was like a cocoon. But it kept me tightly bound the entire time. I was fed a sort of fluid that was mildly sweet from a bottle that was forced into my mouth by my captors. And that was it. No solids no water just that sickening syrup. What I found extremely humiliating, though, was that they forced me to relieve myself while still in my clothes. They had installed a sort of absorbing layer around my crotch which I guess was supposed to take in the waste. But it felt really disgusting. And the only way I could get myself washed was during the water torture they seemed to like a lot. I do not know what information they wanted and all my cries to explain this to them just seemed to go unnoticed. I think that was because I couldn’t speak any sense for some unknown reason. Most probably it was because I still hadn’t fully recovered from the fluid extraction experiment before.
My captors themselves were weird. They looked like larger versions of me but they were very loud. There were two of them. The one that kept eyes on me the most was easily distinguishable by its higher voice and longer hair. I named it #1. It would take pleasure in smothering me to sleep by pressing my face against its chest. I know this because it would make soft cooing noises during those times. Resembling a cat or kitten when it was happy.
The other one didn’t appear as much but it was still mean to me. It would call me names and crush my cheeks and tickle me. This one I named #2.
My cell was unique in that it had no ceiling. Like my captors were taunting me to try and escape. But the walls were too high and the soft cushiony floor gave no steadiness. I couldn’t slip through the bars because they were too close together. To try and escape I knew I had to go over the wall, so I built up my strength over the next few weeks and realized that by some miracle I had become able to reach the edge of the walls if I jumped high enough. The only problem was the object that faced my cage sitting on top of the structure to my right. I had had my doubts from the beginning that it was some sort of recorder or sensor.
I was right. As soon as I pulled myself onto the edge, #1 rushed into the room and snared me into it’s arms. It was like it had seen me try to get out from wherever it had been. And it wasn’t long before it started the smothering. Last thing I remember was passing out.
When I next opened my eyes I couldn’t believe them. I was in an even larger prison with even higher walls. I started crying out of hopelessness and despair. But then #1 came and smothered me again.
That is where I am now. Luckily I found a small bit of charcoal at the corner of my cell. And that is how I am able to tell my story.
I do not know if I will ever be free.
PS: This idea came to me after watching Baby’s Day Out for the 6th time. The fact that the world must be a very mysterious place to babies appealed to me. I’d written it during a car ride somewhere between Lokhandwala and Bandra and it was stored in my phone for the longest time until I found it yesterday. It’d come out quite nicely and I thought I’d share it with you.
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