Reddit: r/nosleep

XIX: YOU'VE READ THIS BEFORE

You've Read This Before
u/_theglobetrotter

You’ve read this story before.

You probably don’t remember it, but you have. At least, you might have.

Every morning, I come on here and tell you all my story. You’d think I’d have grown tired of typing this out by now, but I am far from it. Your words of encouragement every day are the only things keeping me going.

One thousand and fifty-three. I’ve been here for one thousand and fifty-three days, now. Every morning, I wake up and find myself back in this godforsaken room.

I can still remember the feelings that flooded through my body when I woke up here on the first day. I was in a bed, in a room I’d never seen before. The room was - is - entirely white. It’s crazy, really. It’s still hard to tell where the floor meets the walls, and I couldn’t tell you how tall the room is.

On one wall is a thick gray door, made completely of metal. A small platform protrudes from the door, a small hatch built into it. The people who did this to me use this hatch to give me food and water. My only interaction with other people is at six o’clock in the evening every day, when the guards bring me my one meal of the day.

In the back of the room is a small desk, with a computer sitting on top. On my first day here, I remember running straight for this computer, urgently trying to figure out where I was.

I’ve never been successful, of course. The computer is never able to tell where I am. It’s angering, really.

The first day, I remember having spent several hours crying and banging on the door. I had no memories of coming to this place. The day before, I’d been out at the park with my wife and daughter, but here I was, in a strange, white room.

I don’t know how long I had been hitting the door. I remember being flung back as the door flew open, two men now standing in the open doorway.

“Quiet,” one of the men snapped, in an accent I couldn’t quite recognize.

“Please, let me go,” I said, pushing myself to my knees. My knuckles were bleeding.

“We said to keep quiet,” the other man said, pulling a small remote from his back pocket.

An intense pain shot through my body, starting from the back of my neck. My hand flew to the source of the pain, my fingers finding a small bump on the back of my neck. Something hard was sitting underneath my skin.

I cried out in pain, the men stepping back out into what I could now tell was a hallway. I could just make out a similar gray door on the opposite side of the hall as the men shut the door behind them.

The pain eventually faded away. I had no idea what to do. I remember lying on the uncomfortable bed that sat in the corner of the room for what felt like hours.

The men returned to my room, at what I now know to have been at just past six in the evening. They slid open the slot on my door and pushed a tray of food in, letting the hatch slam shut.

The food is terrible. It’s the same meal, every single day. Dry, bland chicken. Some stale bread. A short glass of water. I had been starving, so I forced myself to eat. God, is it awful.

I sat in my bed for a few more hours, just staring at the ceiling. Had I been kidnapped? Was this just some bizarre dream?

At around midnight, a strange buzzing sensation started on the back of my neck, the feeling soon moving throughout the rest of my body. As the feeling reached its peak, a loud explosion sounded from far away. A weird shock wave, so to speak, flew through my room. The wave was overpowering, and seemed to ignore the fact that there were walls in its way.