Ten Minutes

Part 1

      I can hear my mother calling me from the other room, but I can't recall how it could be possible. Last time I checked, I'm a grown man who lives in his own apartment...and my mother died when I was twelve. Around me now is the once-familiar furniture and posters of the room I grew up in, not the barren four walls I live in now; from outside the window I hear my old dog Clancy barking at most likely the mailman and somehow this almost seems real. My mother is still calling for me but her voice has now changed to sound like an old man. Suddenly the door is opening.

    And then I wake up.

    I have no clue where I am.

    I sit in the corner and hug my knees to my chest like a child. There is this looming feeling of something dangerous in the air and I want no part of it. The once white shirt I am wearing is now covered in sweat stains and my naked feet ache with immense pain; is that blood flowing like a river from the left one? I close my eyes for a few seconds and any sign of red liquid has disappeared when they re-open. A grin of satisfaction stretches my dry lips. I let go of my cramped legs and slowly make my way to a standing position.

    "Damnit!" I bellow as a bolt of pain shoots up my right leg. After stumbling for a couple of steps I manage to stand up straight and gain some composure. I must be quite the sight, I think to myself.

    So who am I exactly? All I can tell you is that my name is Okli and I am the prisoner of this room. That's all I can tell you 'cause it's all I know at the moment. Where is this room? I don't know. How did I get here? That I also don't know. How long have I been here? I would say about ten minutes. (BUT DON'T TRUST HIM)

    At least that's what the timer on the wall says. At least I assume that's what it means.

    Until it started to count downwards.

    There are no doors or windows; just four white walls with a matching floor and ceiling. There isn't a single piece of furniture or any food or water, which sparks some fear in me. I scan the room for a sign of anything living but it was only lonely old Okli occupying the small space. That and the raspy voice that has taken to bending my ear. (IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH TO MENTION ME)

    "I was getting to you." I say out loud to an empty audience; a part of me is beginning to worry about my sanity, but I push the thought out of my mind. I can't remember much about who I am but this voice seems familiar; almost as though it's family. (YOU WISH) Suddenly, a pounding sensation forms in my head and my hand immediately finds its way to the rough skin of my forehead.

    I feel like shit, pardon my french.

    "I need to get out of here." I whisper to myself.

    (HEY I HAVE AN IDEA, WHY DON'T YOU SLEEP ON IT?)

    "And how will that help?"

    (SLEEPING ALWAYS HELPS ME.)

    "Alright, fine."

    Listening to the voice, I saunter back over to my corner and slide down to the ground. It is still warm from moments earlier, making me feel oddly happy. Before resting my head against the wall and closing my eyes, I lean to the right and look over to the timer on the wall.

    It now read eight minutes and thirty seconds remaining.