Johns Prison

His everyone! I have recently tried to do things in my life that make me happy, and writing is one of them. So this blog that I set up is to channel that desire I have to write. I'm going to use my blog to post all the writing that I do. I really like writing short stories and I also like to write about current events going on in the world.

Well this story that I posted is titled 'Johns Prison.' It's a good one and I hope you like it!

Johns Prison

I am the most average man in the world, John thought to himself as he looked in the mirror. He had an interview today, but debated on if it would be worth his time even going to the stupid thing. What do I have to offer that someone else doesn’t already have? He could never stare at himself longer than a couple of seconds. The sight disgusted him. His mirror distorted his face as it moved like a liquid.

John had not shaved for weeks and his beard grew in patches all over his cheeks and chin. He glanced in the mirror trying not to look himself in the eyes. You look homeless, John. You are never going to get this job. Why even go to the interview?

“I need to try,” John had lived by himself for a long time now. Talking to himself had become a very normal thing. “Why do you always do this? You always put me down.” John finished shaving and got dressed in an old suit that he received from his father when he had passed away. It was the only thing that John had in his closet. He tried to stay positive about the interview, but he knew how it was going to go. The same way that everything in his life had gone; terribly. Every interview for the past three months had been a disaster, and every time the interview ended in a disaster his punishment from himself grew worse.

John grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door and into the hall way of the apartment building he lived in. The apartment building was old and run down. This is what I deserve. He stayed in this run down building because it was just like him; sad. The hallways paint was peeling off, and the lighting was dim. The sounds coming from behind the apartment doors made Johns hair stand up. Screams and yelling could be heard all the way down the hall. He began the long walk down the hall, but The more he walked, the more the hall elongated. It never ended.

 A women screaming in a room stopped him at the front of the door where the sound came from. This is how the interviews start. “No! Please don’t do it John! Please!” The woman was pleading for something. Her voice sounded very familiar. All John could do was stare at the door. Just then the door of the room swung open, and a man in a black pinstripe suit stepped out. His hair was neatly combed and his suit was newly pressed. He gave John a forced smile and folded his arms, staring at him.

“Hello John. How’s life in apartment number twenty four?” Michael had a fierce face with very sharp features, but he had a very kind heart. He was very gentle “Are you ready for your interview? Please have a seat.”

John looked around him as suddenly the hallway faded and an office formed around them with a large oak desk. Michael was motioning to the chair in front of the desk. The entire room was empty except for the desk and chairs and was surrounded by windows. Outside was the ocean, in all directions all that he could see was the ocean. John was amazed. Michael had had their interviews in exotic places before, but this was the first time that he had seen the ocean. Michael walked behind the desk and sat down. “We are at the ocean today, huh? It’s very empty don’t you think, John?” John didn’t answer. Michael always asked him rhetorical questions. “Please sit.”

John shook off the amazement and sat down in front of the desk. The two men stared at each other. Michael sat back in his chair looking at John with squinted eyes. Every time John was in these interviews with Michael, John felt as if Michael was starring right into his mind, reading all of his thoughts. It was almost like John could feel Michael in his mind.

“Do you know why you’re here, John?” Michael finally broke the silence.

“For an interview.” The answer was obvious. “We always come here for an interview. Your office, that is. We have never come to the ocean though.” John glanced back out the window.

“No, why are you here, in this place?” Michael spread his arms to the office, “Why are you here? We have been doing these interviews for months now and you have never gotten a job. Have you ever tried to think about why that is? What do you do when we are not in these meetings?”

John sat in silence. He tried to think back on all of the interviews that they had had together. He could remember every one of them. Then he tried to think about what he would do on his spare time. The more he thought, the more he realized he couldn’t remember. Certainly there was something he enjoyed doing on his free time. As he thought back, all he could remember was the time he spent getting ready for the interview, having the interview, and then beating himself up after the interview was over. He was always thinking about his failures.

A feeling began to well up inside of him. A feeling that he had not had in a very long time. For eight months John had not left the apartment complex he was living in. For eight months, he had not seen his family. For eight months, he had not slept. The more he thought about, he had not even eaten for eight months. As he began to realize this, the feeling spread from his stomach through his entire body. His heart began to race.

“John, for the past eight months we have been meeting with each other every week. Every week we meet to see how you have progressed and for eight months- nothing. Do you know what we are trying to accomplish here?” Michael leaned forward on his desk and starred deep into John’s eyes. “Think John. I can’t help you with this one.”

John put his head down, desperately reaching in his mind for what was not there. There is a reason for these meetings, but he couldn’t remember what the reason was. All he could think about was the hallway they were just in. The woman screaming…

“The woman that was screaming,” John looked up at Michael. Michael was nodding his head in excitement. “She was my wife.”

“Yes,” Michael got up out of his desk and walked around it to face John. “Keep going.”

“She is screaming because someone is hurt.”

“Who is the one that is hurt, John?”

He closed his eyes and tried to draw the memory back. Then it hit him. The familiar voice screamed John’s name from the apartment. “Me?” John couldn’t believe the word came out. It couldn’t be him that she was screaming for. ”How can I be the one that is hurt? I’m right here with you. I’m fine.” John began breathing deeply. “What is going on?”

“John, I am not the owner of the apartment complex. You made me the owner. I need to explain something to you and it is going to seem unreal, because it is. I am your Conscience. You’re living in your unconsciousness with me.” Michael had a look of extreme seriousness on his face.

“My conscience? You’re insane!” John got up from his chair and began backing up against the window. “Let me out of here! This isn’t real!”

“You’re right! This isn’t real! I have been holding interviews with you so that I could eventually bring you into reality, but you had to find out this isn’t real on your own.”

“What are you talking about? What reality?” John was looking around the room for a door so that he could escape from this place and go back to his apartment, but there was no door. “This is real!”

“John, I know that you suffer from depression.” Michaels tone grew somber, “You tried to kill yourself, but you were not successful. You only put yourself in a coma. Your wife found you in the middle of the living room, unconscious with an empty pill bottle in your hand. The woman screaming that you hear from the apartment, is the last thing that you remember from your consciousness. All your memories are locked in the rooms of the apartment complex. You keep them all locked except for that one for some reason. This place has been created by your mind.” Michael walked slowly towards John, trying to calm him with his demeanor. “You live in your depression.”

It all started to make sense to John. Everything for the past eight months finally started to make sense. He leaned against the window and slid down to the floor.

“I know that it might be a shock to you. You have to believe me. I have tried to tell you for the past eight months, but you are so depressed that the world that you have created for yourself keeps you locked in. You have to let go of your depression. It is the reason you are still here. You want to be dead so badly that your mind won’t let you live.” Michael’s expression began to change to a pleading look.

“What should I do?” The feeling of panic began to dissipate from John and extreme sadness took its place. John began to weep deep sobs that came from years of depression. As he cried he felt a desire come up in him. I don’t want to live like this anymore, but I don’t know how to change. “What should I do? Please tell me!”

“What do you love most about life?” Michael asked very quietly now squatting by John.

John closed his eyes. Like a tsunami, memories overflowed his thoughts: his marriage to his wife, their children being born, their child’s first steps, birthdays, Christmas, and soccer games on Saturday mornings. The feeling of sadness left him the more he thought about his family. “My family.” John stopped crying and looked up to meet Michael’s eyes. “The greatest thing about life is my family.” As soon as John said those words the ocean and office disappeared and they were back in the hallway. It wasn’t the same hallway though. It was cleaner and well lit. The ceiling was decorated with crown molding and gold paint in an intricate design. All that could be heard from behind the doors of these apartments were laughter and pleasant conversations. The door that was directly in front of John was different from all the others. The molding was gold and a white light was peering through the cracks of the door.

“Where are we now?” John asked

“I have never seen this hall way before. This must be where you keep all your memories of your family.” Michael and John stood up and looked down the hall and then back at each other. John began to examine the door in front of him and realized that the sign on the door said, ‘exit.’ From behind the door he could hear beeps from machines, and footsteps on a hard floor.

“This must be where I get out.” John thought out loud.

“Your mind wanted you to tell it what you treasured most. Once you told your mind, it took you straight to your family.” Michael smiled, “I think eight months apart is long enough.” Michael and John embraced in a hug. John had not felt hope and love for a long time. He was ready for that change in his life.

“Thank you for bringing me to my senses,” John whispered in Michael’s ear. “I don’t know if I would have ever come out of this without you.”

Michael whispered back, “We did it together, John. Remember we’re the same person. My entire job, as your conscience, is to clear your mind and speak sense to you.”

As the two separated, John took one last look at his conscience, smiled, and then turned to face the door. He grabbed the door knob and turned it. As he turned and pushed the door open, a bright white light blinded him from the other side. He felt himself turn upright and lie down on his back. He tried to open his eyes, but the brightness from the overhead light was blinding. He began glancing around the room noticing the instruments flashing and beeping all around him. He could see the hospital room he was in had a couch with his wife lying on it. He tried to speak to her but nothing came out but a grunt. The grunt was enough to stir his wife from her sleep. She looked straight into his eyes. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, but the sight of life in her husband brought her tears of joy.

“John?” She whispered, “John. Your back.”