The call me 'Adam'
By Hiele Tiburon
Disclaimer: This was a drama project I did. Its creepy.
(Onto the monologue)
***
They call me 'Adam' because I was the first.
My mother gave up on me and sold me at an auction to the doctor of death, my new 'father'. I was placed in a cell. I had very little light. I was left alone to be consumed by the pain given to me.
I was a test subject; tied down everyday and thrown in a dark cell every night. The only comforts I had were the bread and water I got everyday. I loved my bread, buttered perfectly, cut thickly and my water was always tasteless. It was pure.
My cell is my world. I can be normal in my cell and I can cry from the pain and play but when he comes to see me eat I must retreat into my shell and pretend I don't care. The only thing was I was always afraid of what he'd do after his routine of coming into the cell and tying my hands behind me and forcing me up. Then, fearfully, I'd walk down the same hall. The others called it the Hall of Death. I was curious over what today's brand of pain would be.
One day after the walk I fell. I begged for mercy, for disappointing him, but none was given. My 'father' decided to test and experiment on my failing legs. By the time he had finished the sun was just setting and I knew I couldn't walk. Like all the other days he used that to exact more pain and made me crawl back to my black, filthy cell. Why does he do this? Why does he hate me so much?
At least, today, I know he won't come. He promised to end my pain for a time. He won't come today. So I sit in my cell waiting for him. I'm waiting for him to come.
The last experiment he did on me had something to do with knives. It's so blurry now so I forget what it was but I remember steeling one of his knives. Terrified that he'd catch me I didn't scream out.
That day all logic died and I had one primal thought. Freedom. Next time he comes he'll wish he had treated me like a son. He'll wish he had never given me scars or pain. He'll be sorry. I'm sorry. No! I am Adam the first of his sons and the last one he's ever going to hurt.
***
Please R&R. Thank you. Tell me what you think.
By Hiele Tiburon
Disclaimer: This was a drama project I did. Its creepy.
(Onto the monologue)
***
They call me 'Adam' because I was the first.
My mother gave up on me and sold me at an auction to the doctor of death, my new 'father'. I was placed in a cell. I had very little light. I was left alone to be consumed by the pain given to me.
I was a test subject; tied down everyday and thrown in a dark cell every night. The only comforts I had were the bread and water I got everyday. I loved my bread, buttered perfectly, cut thickly and my water was always tasteless. It was pure.
My cell is my world. I can be normal in my cell and I can cry from the pain and play but when he comes to see me eat I must retreat into my shell and pretend I don't care. The only thing was I was always afraid of what he'd do after his routine of coming into the cell and tying my hands behind me and forcing me up. Then, fearfully, I'd walk down the same hall. The others called it the Hall of Death. I was curious over what today's brand of pain would be.
One day after the walk I fell. I begged for mercy, for disappointing him, but none was given. My 'father' decided to test and experiment on my failing legs. By the time he had finished the sun was just setting and I knew I couldn't walk. Like all the other days he used that to exact more pain and made me crawl back to my black, filthy cell. Why does he do this? Why does he hate me so much?
At least, today, I know he won't come. He promised to end my pain for a time. He won't come today. So I sit in my cell waiting for him. I'm waiting for him to come.
The last experiment he did on me had something to do with knives. It's so blurry now so I forget what it was but I remember steeling one of his knives. Terrified that he'd catch me I didn't scream out.
That day all logic died and I had one primal thought. Freedom. Next time he comes he'll wish he had treated me like a son. He'll wish he had never given me scars or pain. He'll be sorry. I'm sorry. No! I am Adam the first of his sons and the last one he's ever going to hurt.
***
Please R&R. Thank you. Tell me what you think.