The same thing happens everyday. Wake up, eat, prepare, and perform. Be taunted, mocked, sneered at, and tossed back into the cell. I feel like I’ve become a clown trapped in a glass castle, forced to entertain those who are looking in.

            It’s inhumane, what you’re doing. But you find happiness in it. You think there’s nothing wrong with this. And those who share the same, sick interests as you support your cruel source of entertainment.

            Every month, you seem to be able to find another poor victim to abduct. Another poor human was unlucky enough to catch your interest. After a series of health tests, the person either passes or fails. Lives or dies. I wish I’d failed. So I wouldn’t have to go through what I do now.

            And when that being is deemed healthy, he or she is locked up in a cell. A cell with a bucket and a blanket is all we have to return to at the end of the day. It’s what we must return to after sunset.

            Being kidnapped and locked in a cell is nowhere near the worst of it.

            When the gray of early morning creeps away, and the sun suddenly blasts it’s rays down into the stadium, the cell doors unlock, our wrists and ankles are shackled, and we’re hauled out into the blazing heat.

            The stadium fills with a great mass of people. Their numbers surprise me, for I’d never expect so many to find entertainment in what we’re forced to do.

            And that’s when our shackles are released, and we’re thrown into a battle, with everyone against each other. If one of us even hesitates, we’re whipped into obeying. Whipped till we bleed and cry and beg for it to stop, but not till we die. Whipped until we finally give in and tackle our nearest opponent down.

            The audience treats this display of battle and gore as a wonderful circus performance, with wild beasts who’ve been locked up in cages. Yes, we perform. Yes, we’ve been locked up. But, we are not wild beasts. We are still human. The wild beasts are the ones who watch us as we suffer. We are only the puppets suffering and being controlled by the savages who reign over us.

            [We] dance for you, who will never be satisfied with the endless torture you give us. You drive us against each other, but force a battling pair apart when one is about to die. You keep us alive against our will, making us inflict pain on each other again and again, giving the injured only a day’s break to recover.

            And during the healing process of someone, you look into [them] openly, touching [their] brain with your own mind. Like a sort of hypnosis, you make them fight their coming death. You give them some false hope that they’ll have a better life if they survive.

            You’ve made almost all of us crazy, and I think, no, I know, I’ve become a fool. I’m a fool who continues to fall for your trickery to keep me alive. I’m unable to die, for your words are always in my head, telling me to keep living, with that sweet voice that reminds me so much of my mother’s.

            These never ending near-death experiences and the continuous revival torture us till madness. Torture us till we die of insanity. It’s not the right way to go. Nothing here is right. Yet, we’re all envious of those who die.

            So I beg, day and night quietly to myself, hoping someone hears my prayers. I chant, “Please let me die.” And that’s all that I repeat. That’s all that I want now. I don’t want freedom. I don’t want justice. The only thing I want, and the only thing anyone here wants, is death.

Thanks for reading!

If you liked this, check out some of my other one-shots or longer stories ^^.

~DespisedSecret