A blank room with no body inside.

The room was as blank as it was yesterday morning, hopefully I woke up in the morning. The single lightbulb swung back and forth in the middle of the room, somehow feeding light into every inch of the cage. There are no windows, no doors, nothing to connect me to the outside world but a landline.

The room was a perfect square. A desk with a mirror, a bookshelf and a small icebox were the only other things in the room besides this bedrock mattress. Every item sat in a corner, the bed, desk, bookshelf and icebox. The desk was at my feet, fridge to my right and the bookshelf opposite of my corner.

The bed material wasn't soft, the sheets were itchy and the mattress was rock hard. It was impossible to be comfortable but sometimes it was bareable. It drove me mad.

The room itself drove me crazy, any damage I made to the room was gone the next morning. The pale coloured walls, the wooden floor were polished and clean. All my drawings, scratch marks or dents in the walls were gone whenever I woke up. I could never keep count of the days gone by because of this.

I always woke up starving, like I had never ate in my entire life. The fridge was always stocked with food and only water,only healthy foods such as vegetables and fruits. Sometimes I would find a hot dog or sausage, I ate those first. I didn't have any cooking methods so the meat was always cold.

There were no exposed outlets so I once tried to use the lightbulb to spark up some paper, the paper never caught fire. I was without a lightbulb for that day too, complete darkness swallowed me. I hated it, alone with my thoughts and in the dark. I felt so cold and more alone than usual.

I sat up in bed, the clothes on my back were silky smooth against my rough skin. My dark hair was unkempt and matted, my teeth were rotting in my mouth and I smelled of death. My clothes were simply plain, the colours changed every so often but they were always clean. Simple t-shirt and pajama pants. I tried to not think of it too much.

I threw the sheets off the bed, flinging them into the middle of the room. The white cloth stared at me while my feet swung over the side of the bed. The wood floor was cool and refreshing, I eventually stood. My first couple steps were wobbly, like a fawn or foal. I walked to my fridge, my body ached. My back needed a pop, my feet dragged against the floor and my legs felt drained. I could feel my stomach screaming inside me, bile rose in my throat.

My morning routine was trying to get food down fast enough I didn't hurl. Drink water as fast as I could.

The shelf that was level with my face was filled with strawberries, blueberries and raspberries. My favorite. I ate like a pig, no plate, no cutlery just my hands. Shoveling food down my throat before acid could come up. Hands not bothering opening them carefully just grabbing and tearing. The metal door handle dug into my side, I didn't notice. My lungs gasped for air and arms reached for a bottle of water. They never had labels. I chugged and chugged, I drained it in half a second.

I realized I was leaning against the door, I straightened my spine earning myself a crack and pop. I sighed, satisfied and full. I carefully put the food back, my hands covered in a red and blue sticky mess. The cool air inside reached me finally causing me to shiver, I quickly closed the door and spun around.

The empty water bottle laid on the floor, crumpled and defeated. I stared at it, it matched how I felt inside. My body was the bottle but the lack of a soul showed with the lack of water. I was a shell in a cage.

I stood in front of the fridge, the stainless steel showed my reflection. I looked pathetic, my eyes were sunken in and my cheeks were hollow. My eyes looked dead, my skin was paler than the walls I was surrounded by.

My first collided with the steel, my knuckles cracked. Agonizing pain screamed up my arms, it tore through my shoulder and across my chest. A pained groan left me, I kept my arm close to me and I swayed on my feet. My vocal cords shredded in my own throat, my scream escaped my lips and created a ringing in my ears. My mind told me to stop but my body just kept tearing itself apart, I repeatedly hit the unyielding steel and screamed every time my flesh touched the cool metal. It eventually became warm and slick.

Blood was starting to pool on the floor, it dripped from the bottom of the fridge as it came down from my fist sized dent in it. My hands were demolished, fists were split, fingers crushed and my arms were sore from the impact. I dropped like a bag of rocks, my figure crumbled in the floor and I felt such intense pain. My only thought was, 'is this going to be fixed? Will I be fine the next morning?'

My mind raced back and forth between screaming from my own, self inflicted, suffocating pain and wondering if I could sleep now. Such a dumb thought.

My vision was complete white, my ears were static and blood pooled around me. I vaguely wondered if I could've died, They would never let that happen. They never did.

I believe I was in so much pain I went unconscious. It happened a lot and when I woke up, unsurprisingly my arms and hands were bandaged and were cared for. It made me more angry than anything, I wanted to feel something. My head felt empty, I don't even know how many days passed.

What if I slept for days, even when I wasn't injured. I always questioned if I was real and alive, pain told me yes but without it I wasn't sure.

I questioned my existence everytime I opened my eyes, was I even alive? I bleed so I had to be, right? Was my life always like this? Why don't remember anything but this cursed room? How do i know anything? Who am I?

I tore at the bed I laid on, my voice cut off every so often when i hollered in anger. My hands clawed and bled when I ripped the sheets. My blind rage led to me pulling apart my mattress, the hard foam hurt my broken fingers. When I had finally caught my breath, the bed was nothing but blood spotted cloth and foam. My body screamed and my chest heaved, sucking in air.

My arms and hands were wrapped in gauze and cloth. It made me furious, I wanted to feel pain. My head was too empty and braindead. The rage was gone replaced with a blank slate. My head was full of bald spots, my black, curly hair was strewn about with the rest of the destruction I caused.

I made determined but unsteady steps towards my desk and mirror. My body ached and shrieked. My joints popped, my bones creaked like old doors and my vocal cords were gone. I had no voice.

My reflection shocked me, I was clean shaven and I noticed, or noticed the lack of, a rotting corpse smell. I rushed the mirror, my mangled hands slapped the glass and my jaw hung open. Even my teeth were polished, my breath smelled of mint. My confused expression was clearly shown on my face, more wrinkles appeared and my eyes were wide.

I hit the glass with the side of my tender fist, I ignored the pain. Pure, unbridled rage filled my head and body, I felt hot and sweaty. I hit it again and again, I tried to scream but no sound left me. My mouth just opened and closed, the side of my hand repeatedly hit my reflection. Blood distorted my image, the glass shattered under my hand and it cut the bandages I had.

Some pieces stayed in the frame of the mirror, I saw myself. So angry, so confused and hurt. I looked defeated and I hated it. Your emotions were always drawn in a subtle sense, the corners of your mouth and eyes. Your droopy eyelids, chapped lips and scabbed face.

I headbutted the wall, hard. I did it again, again and again, over and over. Blood and sweat got in my eyes, I just squeezed them shut and continued bashing my head. No thought was in my head. I was a braindead walking person, no morals, no thoughts, nothing. I was nothing.

My skull cracked, red poured down my face. My breathing was heavy and shallow, I realized I was dying. I hit the wall harder, going faster. I held the frame and shook like a leaf, my trembles getting farther apart and less intense. I was lightheaded, my breathing getting shallower by the second with my vision fading and spotting.

I sighed with relief, my lips forming one word.

"Finally."