Makan - Trapped.Mature



How long had I been here? I couldn’t tell. Days had drifted into weeks, weeks into months. I cursed loudly at myself, how could I of been so stupid? I’d done the necessary research, gotten all the things I’d needed to start a new life. I’d learnt about Norway, how it was the safest country in the world, the country with the highest quality of life, the country with beautiful surroundings that would be sure to aid my flourishing photography career. Without a second thought I’d packed my bags, said goodbye to my friends and set off to explore the antique city of Bergen. I’d settled in quickly, learnt the essentials of the Norwegian language. I’d done everything that the guidebook had said; yet I’d still managed to put myself into this ridiculous situation.

In Germany I’d been a calm person. I had always calculated everything, cut everything down into small chunks, analysed things. But in Norway I’d been rash, I’d been lulled into a false sense of security and I’d gone out hiking in the desolate Norwegian hills, alone.

Now I was stuck, stuck in this pitch-black room with nothing but a small 80s looking television to keep me company.

I dropped to my knees, rubbing my hands along the ground, using my palms to search out the long piece of rock I’d been sharpening for the past few days. Maybe today would be the day I could use it to draw my thoughts onto the walls. I felt the sharp prick of the jagged edge scratch against my finger. Grinning to myself I picked it up and began scraping it on the wall, I felt it dig into the stone. Finally it was ready. Gently I started sketching out the basic details of Oleah, a girl I hadn’t seen since my days in Norway. I tried to draw her defining features; her slightly slanted nose, her arched eyebrows, and her beautiful eyes that any sane man would drown in…
Feelings of love and longing washed over me, overpowered my senses and brought the harsh sting of tears to my eyes. I crumbled to the ground, letting the stone roll away from me. It bounced against the wall then came to a stop next to my feet.
I forgot my ‘manly pride,’ forgot about all my dad had ever taught me about never showing my emotions. I forgot that anyone could walk in at any moment and see me emotionally exposing myself. I dropped my aching head into my hands, and began gently sobbing for the first time in my life.

I was harshly brought back to reality as the steel door that sealed my enclosure swung open, revealing a large, fierce looking man. He stared at me, mumbling to myself. I sat up hesitantly, tension filled the room. I began sliding backwards, as far as I could go. My tender back hit the wall, I slowly winced, letting myself be exposed to him. He lunged towards me, grabbing my hands and pinning them to the wall. Without even realizing what exactly was happening, I found myself flat on my back, sucking in deep breaths of air and trying to untangle myself from his burly arms. I winced as he threw me against the rough wall; tiny pebbles dug painfully into my back and cut up my arms. I rolled away, just in time to avoid a kick in the ribs. With every bit of energy I had left, I sprang myself up, getting into a fighting stance and clenching my fists, ignoring the wet tearstains that trailed down my face. Drawing my throbbing arm back, I hit him as quickly as I could on the jaw. He grunted and fell back, just missing the glinting stone that would be my only protection. I snatched it and ran, demanding myself never too look back.

The End

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