The Room

March:

      I woke to find myself in a small room, the floors were oak and freshly stained. The walls were painted a brilliant shade of blue, and the window, the only window I managed to see from my place on the floor, looked out over a large garden. The last thing that I could remember was m me blowing out my candles on my birthday cake, I had just turned fifteen years old. There was other stuff in the room as well, barren shelves and bed right above where I laid on the floor, I figured that I must have fallen out of it. I stood up slowly, walking around the small room. I went over to a door and found it to be locked, I had a feeling that one was the door that led outside. There was a door on the adjacent wall that opened, it was a small walk-in closet. There were five cardboard boxes inside, I opened up the one closest to me to find a bunch of clothes, my clothes. I opened the second box underneath the first one and found books for the shelves in the room outside. Horrified, I realized that I wasn’t moving, my parents would have told me so. I thought to myself, I’ve been kidnapped, but by whom, and where the heck am I?!

                    My name is Cody and this is the story of my 15th year.

April:

  It has been exactly one month since I awoke in this strange small room. Twice a day the door to the room will be unlocked and a person wearing a covering over his face will bring me a tray of food and water. Beside the closet door I had found a bathroom, stocked full with the necessary toiletries. I found this notebook in one of the boxes in the closet, sometimes the mystery person will bring me another box of my stuff and I will go through it and hope to find something that will give me some sort of clue to tell me where I am and how I could get out of this room. Maybe I will remember more after more boxes are brought to me. My only question right now is, aside from where I am and how I got here is, how does whoever who kidnapped me keep getting boxes of my stuff?

May: 

        JOURNAL, YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS! I found a note from my parents in the latest box. It doesn’t explain everything, but it did unlock a memory from my birthday, AKA the day I woke up in this room. I remember getting into a limousine and driving away, my parents waving goodbye, and then a woman giving me a glass of water, everything after that is a blur. I have started spending my days sitting by the window with a book, sometimes I will just gaze out the window, watching the people walk by.

June: 

         There has been nothing eventful in the past month. I have started just writing on the last day of the month, I don’t have my phone, but I found a calendar and since I know what day I got here, I can still keep track of the time. That is at least one thing that won’t make me go crazy here. I just hope that my stay here will end soon. I really miss the outside world, my parents most of all, they must be worried sick about me. Afterall, it has been three months since I went missing. I have also started sewing, keeps me busy. 

July:

        OH. MY. GOSH. I. AM. SO. BORED! I tried to throw one of the bookshelves out the window so I could get out, but it was nailed to the floor, so is all of the other furniture in here. There is something strange going on here, I spend the mid-morning time staring out the window and I see the same people walk by every single day. I know that could be normal in some places, and I might not have thought anything of it, except the fact that THEY ARE WEARING THE EXACT SAME CLOTHES AS THE DAY BEFORE!

August:  

            I feel like I am going crazy. I still watch the people and I am beginning to think that what I am staring at all day is not the window, it is some sort of screen that plays the exact same scene over and over and over and over. I just want to get out of hereeeeeeeeeeee. I am formulating a plan so that the next time the mystery person comes to bring me food I am going to tackle them so I can finally escape and figure out what is going on around here, very, very, curious indeed.

September:

                Well that failed miserably. So I tried to escape and I made it to the front door, then I was hit over the head with something and the next thing I knew, I was back in this cursed room. I wanted to try again, but now there are TWO mystery people bringing me food, so that idea is out the window. Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, maybe I could jump out the window, if I can open it, anddddddddd if it is an ACTUAL window. I will get out of here one day, one day very soon. I hope, I really, really, hope.

October:

             So I have been here for seven months now. The new school year would’ve started by now, my sophomore year, at least it isn’t my senior year. The last time I got a box, it was in September, it had a radio, so at least now I can listen to music. The window is glued shut, so getting out of this room that way is no longer an option. Mark my words though, I will find a way, I know you are getting old of me saying this, but I need support, even if it is from this journal.

November-December:

                            Last month was so uneventful I didn’t bother writing anything that time. I have had to start running back and forth in the room because I have noticed I am gaining some weight, and I prefer to stay a stick, even though my mom always told me I needed to gain some muscle. Maybe this way I will, somewhat. Mom, man I miss my parents soooooo much, I wonder if they are worried about me, if they are looking for me. There is no way to tell. I have been here for almost an entire year, just dang man, an entire year.

January:

             I am going to lose it. I have been here for too long, although my weight is more in check now, so there is at least one place to this whole ordeal. The “window” is for sure a screen, it turned off a week ago and now I have nothing to gaze sadly at. I miss the sun, although I am not getting paler, maybe there is some sort of UV-Ray thing in the ceiling keeping me from turning into a sheet? As the days go by, I only gain more questions, as you can tell by reading this. 

February:

              I am slowly figuring out what is going on here, but I am worried if I write it down, someone will sneak into this room at night and tear out the page, because then I would have no proof of what is going on here. So that information will be kept to myself for the time-being, at least until I feel it is safe enough to reveal what I think I know. Until next month, JOurnal, Sayonara!

March: 

           I have been here for an entire YEAR now, tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday for pete’s sake. I have heard voices outside the door lately, although it could be in my head for all I know, I have given up hope about getting out of here. WAIT. I can hear voices! For sure this time! I will be right back, journal, I am going to see if they are coming in. 

Moments later………..

“So you are telling me that this was all an experiment?!” Cody said. 

“Yes, you volunteered for this, so did all of your other classmates, how do you think we got all of those boxes of your stuff?” the scientist said.

Cody sighed. “So does this mean I can go home now, and you know, get my memories back?”

The scientist sighed and started rocking back and forth on their heels.

“Well Cody, we can’t let you go now, or give you your memories back, you know too much.”

Cody gasped. “WHAT?!” “Please, I don’t know anything, I just want to see my family again.” Cody pleaded.

“I’m sorry, but this is for your own good, Cody.” 

the scientist grabbed Cody and dragged him back to the small room, never to be seen again. A few days later, missing posters of Cody and his entire class appeared all over town, the children were never found, they were presumed dead, but were they really dead?