Freedom From the Light
Or has it been five?
I guess that’s the point of these things, isn’t it? With the constant music and blazing light, I’ve barely been able to do more than grab a few moments of unconciousness.
I used to love bright, shiny days. The warmth of the sun shooing away the clouds until only whisps of vapor were left behind. Those were nice days. Even after I joined up, I recall pausing on the battlefield to drink in a few moments of sunlit peace.
Then I got captured after getting knocked out by a concussion blast. Since then, I’ve known nothing BUT light as my captors attempt to squeeze whatever information they can out of me. I wonder how you would say ‘You can’t wring water from a stone’ in their tongue.
My interrogator’s superior has just entered the room and they speak in hushed tones. I’m lifted from my chair, and walked down a hallway to a small, dark cell, then tossed inside like a toy that’s no longer entertaining.
Not much better I guess, but at least I have freedom from the light.