The Unseen Chains

The day always started that way. The 6 a.m coffee, the 8 hour workday, the microwave dinner, and the squeaky mattress. Everyday, it takes a heavier toll. Everyday is like another ounce, to the rock binding him down. But he kept going on. What else was he to do? The mattress strained under his weight. It felt like sleeping on a rock, but it was better than the floor. His apartment was simple. It included a sofa, a kitchen, complete with a microwave, worn from the use. It’s hinges looked to be a second away from giving up, and yet it kept working. The coating, once shiny, now faded with time. He stood up, and made dinner. A simple microwave meal, corn and chicken. The steam smelled like crap. It looked unappetizing. He ate it. Each sloppy, watery bite, tasteless and bland, went down. At this point, he didn’t care anymore. 5 minutes later he was in bed. Naked, of course. No pajamas. Those were a luxury. Just him and his pair of boxers. His eyes slowly closed, desperate for rest. 

He opened his eyes. To nothing. Endless, nothing. What was this? A dream? He tried moving, it was like floating in space. Unoriented, he closed his eyes, and tried to wake himself up. It didn’t work.

“It won’t work, you know,” it said.

His eyes fluttered open. In front of him, was nothing. Nothing again. Talking dreams. That’s not a good sign. He opened his eyes again.

“Prince, you’re not hallucinating.” it said.

He didn’t respond. 

“Let’s get to the point. I heard your prayers. I have come.”

“What prayers?”

“The ones you make everyday. You scream inside, desperate to be freed from your mundane, worthless life. So here I am. To free you.”

Prince didn’t respond. 

“In exchange, however, you have to give something to me.”

“What?”

“Hm, you seem to be very interested. I will grant you freedom. I will liberate you from your current prison. In exchange, you have to grant me your humanity.”

“My humanity?”

“Correct. In exchange for liberating you, I will take your humanity. Prince, everything is a fair trade.”

He considered it. What was this prison this thing was talking about? Why would he lose his humanity, and more importantly, what is it? 

“I will be liberating you from your life, Prince. You will no longer be bound to this world. You can finally be free.”

His rational salesman brain said no, but his heart said yes. There was something about the notion of freedom that intrigued him. It excited him. His skin tingled at the thought. His life has been a dump. Prince Adams was born to Jeff Adams and Moira Adams, graduated high school with honors, valedictorian, then stuck with a dead end job as a paper salesman. Now he’s 40. Where’s his life going to lead? Nowhere. With a jolt, Prince realized these thoughts weren’t his. The deity was manipulating his mind. But it was too late. The seed has been planted, and the vines have gotten him. He agreed, and at that moment, a swirl of paper appeared out of nowhere. Driver’s license, Birth Certificate, even that one math test from first grade. An inferno erupted. Everything burnt to a crisp. At the same time, the warmth in his body suddenly drained. He felt cold, but perfectly sane. His thoughts were clearer. He woke up. The room was no longer his room. He was still in the empty space, but somehow it was different. It was real. He willed himself to appear on Earth. It happened. He walked the streets. Strangely, he no longer felt a sense of dread, of something pulling him down, as if gravity no longer worked. He felt no attachment to the people walking next to him. They were commoners, and he was a prince. He crossed a beggar. He knew this one well. He always gave it a dime whenever he had the change. It had become a routine. But not anymore. Why did he need to help this inferior, pathetic creature? What happened to it no longer relates to him. He can rot in hell for all Prince cared. It no longer mattered to him. His eyes were cold, distant with an endless void, filled to the brim with emptiness. In fact, why was he here? He could do anything he wanted now, and he chose to spend it in this hellhole? No longer. All his chains have been severed. He looked down upon the pathetic creatures going about with their daily lives. Their mediocracy disgusted him. He had the power to do anything he wanted. But he did not do anything. Climate change can go to hell. Racial Injustice can follow suit. They’re pathetic little ants, they could not hope to achieve any real change. Why would he need to bother with these things? They no longer mattered to him. He is god now. Above the puny mortals. He can see everything. The trivial wars being fought over simple beliefs, the stupid violence against each other for skin color, the murders every single minute. Robbery, theft, arson, not to count political crimes. But he transcends these matters. They were nothing. He felt no connection to them, no desire to help. A darkness slowly enveloped him. He felt utterly alone, and yet he did not know why. There were people right below, and yet it felt like they were worlds away. He felt as if he was trapped in an invisible prison, unable to escape. Prince felt empty, as if there was something missing. A sort of anger took over him. A boiling rage. So he did the first thing that came to mind. He attacked. A sort of savage pleasure overtook him. Their screams mean nothing. He attacked, and attacked. He was shot, tased, and stabbed. None of the pain reached him. He felt unlimited strength. He killed, and killed. Soon, there was no one in sight. So he moved on. City after city, country after country, and yet he could not satisfy that insatiable rage, a hole inside. Soon, nobody was in sight again, but this time, it was permanent. He felt nothing, and that bothered him. He stood still, and watched the world. It crumpled around him, buildings due to lack of maintenance, and corpses became skeletons. That became dust too. Life never grew back. Plants wilted. The ocean rose, but then evaporated. He was faced with a barren planet. Slowly, he wilted too. He became trapped, weaker and weaker, worn down from time. Soon, he was nothing but a speck of dust. He realized it. He was missing his humanity. That son of a bitch did take it. He felt despair for the first time. Suddenly, he detected a warmth in the distance. So he seeked it out. He went world after world, until he found it. A worthless salesman was stuck in a dead end job, without realizing he had the most valuable thing in the world, his humanity.