Black Earth
Chapter 1
Naming the place where I stand
I don't think I'm an interesting person. I have no emotions or personality. I have no memories. I guess you could call the patterns that happen each day a long memory that hasn't ended yet. The sun rises, the sun disappears, the moon comes, the moon disappears. People have come here, too. But only one at a time and at specific times in the day. They bring food and slide it through a slot under the window. They have no faces. Where their faces should be is blurred. They don't talk to me. I don't talk to them. I think I tried talking to one of them. A long time ago or maybe it was just a few days ago. I asked them if they were happy outside my window. I wanted to know if they had emotions. If happiness is real. If they were real. Or maybe it's me who isn't real. Maybe it's just a dream that I can't wake up from. Or I'm someone else's dream. But it doesn't really feel like a dream because nothing changes and no one wakes up. I asked him what was real, too. I think he was angry. His face became contorted as if he had seen something terrible and he turned away. Before he left he did give me an answer. He said that the most real things are hidden right in front of us but we may never see them.
I stopped talking to them after that. I don't know if my voice even exists anymore. I stare through my window everyday. I like the way the sun and moon shine. The sun is so strong and bright while the moon is soft. The streams of light are beautiful, too. They shine shapes and colors on my floor. But they never seem to reach me. I always seem to be in darkness. It seems kind of cruel to always be in here. Or maybe it's crueler to be out there. Is nothing better than something? I don't think I'll ever know because there's no way out of here.
I remember another person. I think he was supposed to bring me food, but he never did. He came at the same time all the others came at. I think he hated me. I don't know why. I had never seen him before. Did I do something bad? Or was I just born to be like this? Born to be hated. Born to live in darkness. He seemed to think so. He called me names. I don't remember them but I remember how they hurt. Like invisible knives. He came everyday and said the same things over and over and over. It hurt so much. But I couldn't do anything. All I did was sit there. I wanted to cry, but if I did he would just get madder. I locked it all away. I let the pain drip inside me. It spread through my entire body like a virus and stayed there. At one time I was glad that my window was there to separate us. But then he came again and during that time I kept thinking 'No. no, this is worse. I'd rather he hit me than do this. Why doesn't he do it already? Someone please, make it stop!' Eventually he left. He was gone. I never saw him again. Before he left he told me something. It was different from what he usually said. Devoid of threats, accusations, and insults, but it hurt more than anything. He said, "You deserve this."
