Trapped Until 98

It's January 18, 1998, Sunday morning and the pouring rain woke me up. Still drowsy, I resisted to get up, stayed in my white dress and hid under my blanket. I got this huge love for rainy days. So I don't want to end this day by just lying down in bed. There's no one in the living room, no one anywhere inside. I'm longing for someone's presence. So I sat beside my broken window. There, I saw raindrops on my window. They came to visit me, I guess. I heard them whisphering softly. It made me recall moments I've never experienced once in my life. Still, it's nostalgic everytime I see them. The best gift, felt like a human even just for a moment.

Darkness is my companion inside this cage. I see no shadow of joy, love, and laughter. All I see are my own reflection and my gown from the promised land. A reflection of absurdity, it's foolish and blurry. I live in this old 10-storey apartment that has 15 rooms in a row. It looks dreamy and concrete from the outside, but it's totally different inside. Terror nights, merciless people, unheard cries of our fragile hearts. A cage of pretention and fake sympathy, slowly being numb with it.

"100th", got years more to wait. It's unworthy of my patience anyway. My hands chained by sorrow, please set me free. No matter how I tried to escape darkness, it won't leave me. Attempted to defeat this demon inside me, still, it never goes away. Please set me free, my hope remains hope.

My parents abandoned me. They left me when I was just a baby. I wasn't able to see their faces, never heard them sing lullabies. Now I sing it all by myself, a melodic pill to help me sleep in an everlasting paradise.

Vermont, in Northeastern, a least populated state. Where they use power to manipulate people and are able to hide violence. It's dreadful, isn't it? Can't you hear me? Please listen to my existence. No doubt, between us, it's a deafening silence.

"110th", heard someone tip-toed across the hallway of our orphanage at 10 o'clock in the evening. She's Karen, a friend of mine. We've been friends since we were just kids. She's my childhood playmate. Her parents died in a helicopter crash when she was still 4 years old so she was sent here. Mr. David, the owner of the orphanage, along with his men, have come up with an evil plan. It's to secretly murder every single one of us for money. The whole state thought we're having childcare. They thought we're being educated and such. The hidden truth is that we're being abused and mistreated. We've been used to this already. The only choice we have is to remain silent and let them be superior or else, we'll die.

110th, December 25, 1989, it's Karen's turn. I was paralyzed at the moment but tried to help her escape although there's no way out for her. She was crying for help. The only way out I know is the tunnel but it was blocked the last time I saw it. We continued to find routes to escape. We passed by the morgue full of remains of orphans. Although it's impossible to escape, I guided her through the hallway. Armed guards standing in every corners, exit doors locked, surveillance cameras attached on the ceiling, highest walls built around the apartment, and Mr. David—the master and law. He runs the entire building and secures that no one should escape and enter unless it's an another victim. Room 150, Karen and I dashed to my room. As we were running so fast yet careful not to be caught, I could hear Karen's whisphering words. I couldn’t hear her clearly for I was more focused on our way. We reached my room safely. I searched for things in the cabinets, under my bed, and everywhere. Hoping there's something that could free her. She was muttering words, I'm sure she was, yet I was so busy looking for something. Finally, I found a rope, a lengthy rope that could help her escape through my window. I knotted it to the pillar when a thunderous rain poured suddenly. I told her to grip the rope as hard as she could while she's positioning herself outside the window. She was mumbling still, but this time, I heard her. Teary-eyed, words of agony she whisphered, "See you, Allison." It was perplexing for all I thought was she's just trying to escape. Sadly, she ended her life. I never noticed she was tying the rope around her neck the whole time I was also tying it up on the pillar. I tried to save her, but a loud gunshot killed her the moment I was about to save her. I was clueless that there were shooters outside, below on the ground floor. Probably the reason to kill herself for there's no more way out once she lands on the backyard. She fell down from the 15th floor and the bullet broke my window. It didn't hit me. It will never hit me. All that's left are the raindrops on my window in a mournful night.

I love rain. I love the trauma it brought me. With these raindrops, I'll recall moments that I wish never happened once in my life. I'll assume everything was just a nightmare.To let my friends escape is all that I've ever wanted.

They could've lived longer and be free. It took me a while to heal from what happened. It's absurd and it's evil. Justice isn't being served here ever since. It's never been easy to lose a friend until I realized, for us, death is our freedom. Leaving behind the footprints and echoes of deceased in every room. Months later, all the rooms were vacant already and only the morgue's been occupied with hundreds of dead bodies which months later have been replaced with money.

5th of April, 1990, a new batch of orphans brought to each rooms except room 150. New cars stopping by from time to time. Guardians dropping their innocent kids to hell. How I pity these elders for they're too blind and ignorant.

Every morning I hear an indistinct sound of a violin. Always unsure where it's coming from. Its harmony is magnetizing. I can't resist so I followed it. It's pulling me through a strange path. The rhythm is familiar and stucked in my head. I continued searching for the sound until I saw an arm swaying sideways gracefully. A thin and tall guy from the back was playing the violin. I arrived at the 6th floor from the top floor searching for it. He's inside the music room. I call it, the chamber of broken dreams. Lost dreams of musician friends I had before. The entire building were filled with his melodies these past few days. He could stay inside for hours just playing violin to pass time. Well, everyday is rubbish, death's just all around. We're locked inside our rooms. Sometimes we could roam around but there's nothing to do. Karen's gone, my friends as well. It's always been miserable. I got no one to talk to and no one to bond with. So, I took this chance to approach him. I was so nervous and my hands are sweating. From distance, I said, "Hi." hesitantly. His strings broke out of nowhere. I guess he heard me so he turned and faced me. He responded, "Oh, hi." Then he dragged the violin case and got some new strings to replace the broken one. He looked straight in my eyes. I hope he doesn't find me strange. "From Room 150." I said while offering him a handshake, but he ignored it. "Right! I know you. You must be..." He's guessing my name. "Allison?" he asked. "Yes, I'm Allison." We got our names printed on our room's door so I assumed he passed by my room. "I stay in Room 100." he said while smiling. It was Karen's room before.

Karen and I used to hang out in there. Her room reminds me of all the laughter we've shared, endless talk, star gazing through the window every night, and burning candlelights to celebrate both of our birthdays. "I'm Adam, by the way," he said. "It's nice meeting you." "I live just couple blocks away." he added. "I live with my aunt in a small house. She took care of me since I was 6 years old. My parents divorced and I was left with my mom. Unfortunately, she got sick and died of cancer. So Aunt Josephine adopted me, supported my needs at first then gave up. She's got a nice job but it wasn't enough to sustain my school fees and music class. So I dropped school and never went back. She had financial breakdown and blamed everything to me. She pushed me away and brought me here without any hesitation. This place is kinda creepy, right? At least I can freely play violin in here." He started talking about everything. I didn't even asked him to do so. But it gave me comfort the moment he started talking so I shared my story to him also. It was relieving that we relate to each other so much. But I guess, he's purely innocent about the orphanage's history of murder.

Our small talk turned into a real and deep conversation. We met in the music room the next days. It became consistent. It's the only place we could bond. I love how his eyes light up everytime he talks about his dog, Toby. How he laughs about his childhood photos and chuckles when he pressed the wrong notes on his violin's fret. I've always thought that everyday brings no surprise. But the moment I met him made me want to forget paradise. He looks at me in the eyes without confusion. Up until now, he doesn't find me strange. He has his old camera with him. He used to record his music with it. I could see no other faces on the screen, just him and his violin. Aside from music, photography is also his passion. We took a lot of pictures together everyday. He even took pictures of me at different angles. I wonder if he could capture the reality.

Consistent location, same routines, and his charm made my days complete. Slowly, we're getting attached to each other. Through our bonding, we reached a level of intimacy. We've been there for each other and shared affection, consistency, and vulnerability. I knew he's the one the moment he never left my mind. But he can't. We just can't be.

99th, another orphan brought to be killed in an isolated room. Adam stays in Room 100 and death awaits him. But all this time, he has no idea of what's happening. Should I tell him now? I can't let him go but for his sake, he should live. In the evening, we met at the music room again. He put out his violin from the case and started to play a piece. It sounds familiar. It's the music he's been playing the first time we met each other. It's the sound I searched for that day. Also, the lullaby I used to sing myself. It was like a syringe of lullaby got into my nerves and helped me sleep in an everlasting paradise. I couldn’t keep still so, I told him the truth. But there's one thing I never told him. He was startled. I was afraid he'd faint from so much fear. He shouldn't wait for tomorrow. It's not too late for him to escape the building. He held my hand, we tip-toed across the hallway, and acted normal under intense pressure. He reached his room and packed his things.

Karen's old stuffs are still everywhere on Adam's bed. I told him not to touch her letter. But he didn't listen to me. I didn't notice that he has put Karen's letter inside his backpack by accident. Years after Karen's murder, the tunnel was now unblocked and it's the only way out for Adam. I told him I can't go with him. He asked me why repeatedly. I couldn’t say a word. He kept on insisting we should escape together. While he's facing the path, I hurriedly hid behind the walls. I was crying silently while hiding from him. If it's real love, I wouldn't have made him expect for nothing. But our relationship's better not pursued at all. I could hear him calling my name. He searched for me for so long yet he never gave up. He went to my room, he run back and forth. He went inside the tunnel thinking I was outside but he never found me. The tall gate was open wide. That night, Adam managed to escape the compound through the gate with his backpack and violin case. He covered his face not to be caught by Mr. David and anyone from the orphanage. He shouted my name hoping to find me on the street but I wasn't there.

It's freezing outside and it's getting late in the evening. He got no shelter to live in and a family to live with. So he stopped by a nearby park and rested on a bench. He unzipped his backpack and saw Karen's letter that he unintentionally put inside. Karen wrote that letter for me last October 6, 1989. Her words were written out of mourning and despair. Adam was bewildered the moment he read the letter. So he took out his camera and checked our photos together, only to realize he was all alone since Day 1.