CHAPTER 2 – FREEDOM?
""Don't even get me started on that goddamned yellow nightmare," Kataryna said angrily as she zipped up her skirt again and looked at him in such disdain, not even taking the money. And that's about the time she walked away from him…"
"Barnacles! Who writes such horrible stories anyway!" I shouted angrily to no one in particular as I threw the awfully disturbing book I've just finished reading, entitled One Less Lonely Gurl, down the dirty floor of the prison cell that I've been incarcerated in for a decade now, at least since I've been transferred to the palace dungeon from being in a run-off-the-mill jail some days after I've been arrested. For these years, this has been my punishment. Since I had nothing else to do in this small, dingy gray cubicle that I've done my best to call home, I read the pulp fiction books that Neptune would occasionally drop by my cell. Sure, the place I used to live in was dark, derelict, lonely, and colorless, but even I would think that this prison cell is a little too dreary. It is actually a small hole in a wall just a little above the regular-sized prison cell that confines Doubloon Swallowin' Misty, a sinister female pirate who got confined there after attempting to steal Neptune's trident. My prison cell is so high above the ground that it is almost impossible to escape from, except for some ledges formed by how uneven the bricks of the dungeon walls were laid down.
Ever since Neptune read the blasted love story about a human and a vampire, he has been so hooked to bad literature and making fun of it that he actually started to hold a contest every year where all creatures from the seven seas are entitled to participate, a competition where the contestants have to write the single worst piece of literature they could possibly come up with. The theme for this year was about parallel universes, and this entry, One Less Lonely Gurl, was about a universe where we don't exist at all, a universe where we are all just figments of the imagination of a marine biologist named Stephen Hillenburg. It was a world where we were all just part of one big TV show that humans, gigantic two-eyed creatures that somewhat resemble mermaids, love to watch laugh at, laugh with, and sometimes cry with. It was a story of the girl who discovered a portal to the parallel world where the way they see us as the sea creatures we really are is just an illusion and where we are just like them, only we live underwater.
One would possibly think that I should have just folded the papers of each of the horrible books into origami pieces instead of punishing myself further by actually reading them. But then, I don't know a thing or two about origami at all, and as I said, I would lose my mind if I have nothing to do. Besides, out of sick curiosity, it can be fascinating how far anyone can go just to write something so horrible without having them lose their minds. I have to admit that I'm utterly amazed in a bizarre way by the poorly-written things I've read in my ten years here. I remember the most horrible I've read so far; it was that 'story' of a 'beautiful' girl with black, red, and purple hair who cursed the world for making her too beautiful, described what she wore in vivid detail in every chapter, and despised anyone who isn't like her; it was written by some depressed teenager who at least achieved something in her life by being the winner for that year's competition with the theme 'sorcery.' Patrick's winning entry from several Short Story Seasons ago, The Ugly Barnacle, wasn't even close to this in the scale of horrible.
That was all I ever did in this prison besides eating that gray sludge in a bowl served to me every day for breakfast, lunch, and 'suffer', which I never knew the recipe to after ten years. Heck, I can't even get the recipe of a Krabby Patty. I've failed in that pursuit for almost all my life now. And that's pretty much why I'm here. I can't remember much of what happened in the days before I've been sent here, other than the fact that Spongebob ruined my kingdom, and that at some point, I was able to swipe the Krabby Patty formula by taking advantage of Neptune's anger. I stole his crown and put the blame on Mr. Krabs. Alas, I've already forgotten the recipe. I still failed. I've always been a bitter failure in all my pursuits, from getting the ladies to making even a half-decent sandwich that won't at least give a shark of iron stomach even a slight churning.
Okay, I admit it. I'm bitter, and reading the story of me in that parallel universe only made me bitterer than I already was. Kataryna, the story's protagonist, and I, actually have a lot of things in common. We're both just bitter failures in life, and only in our dreams to we get everything we want, where we could live the opposites of our realities. We both have dreams of world conquest that will never come true.
In reality, I'm just an unattractive, puny little protozoan with one big, red eye on his forehead. The years have painted unsightly liver spots and wrinkles on my face. I have no mirror in this cell at all to see for myself, but I could feel the lumps and bumps when I would wipe the sweat off my face with my stubby arms that seemed to shrink little by little whenever I would look at them. My skin has also lost its former greenish luster, turning it into a shade of gray as dingy as my prison cell itself. I've also grown a lush, white beard that I could braid for about five millimeters. Besides reading those horrible pieces of literature and eating the same horrible sludge the dungeon 'chefs' call 'food', what I did for the rest of the time was to find new and innovative ways to style my beard when it eventually grew long enough. I even tried to style my beard to be able to pick the cell's lock, but I ended up dismissing the idea as impossibly ridiculous.
Just like Kataryna, the only thing I was ever really good at is being a fixture in this prison where I could do nothing but wait for the day I will finally be free, perhaps to try again and ultimately take away the Krabby Patty formula. This was the book that finally drew the line for me even if I personally hated how poorly-written it was. My patience was wearing thin. I wanted to escape! I've always wanted to leave since I've been sent here, but when I finished this Neptune-forsaken book, I've had it.
"Oh, Plankton!" a booming voice resonated through the air as I felt he ground shake, getting gradually more intense by the seconds.
"What is it this time?" I asked flatly.
'I have good news for you," Neptune replied as he peeked through my tiny cell. From here, I could only see his eyes and the upper half of his nose. Even if he said he had good news, I still trembled in fear. He opened the door of my cell and stepped aside. He raised his hand as if allowing me to get out. I didn't move at all because this could possibly be just a trap or a test of some sort.
"What are you waiting for, puny creature? You've already done your time. Come on, you're wasting precious dungeon space!"
"Are you serious about this?" I asked as I continued to shake in fear, stuttering every word.
"And why would I not be, you stuttering barnaclehead? Hurry up before I change my mind!"
He was being serious. He's setting me free! After ten, long boring years of waiting, and waiting, and waiting… I'll see the sun, the moon, and the stars again, and even they will soon bow down to me. I will finally see how the world progressed in ten years' time. I actually thought ten years ago, that I would have to stay in this prison cell for the rest of my life. I started to smile and laugh hysterically like some patient in a psychiatric ward who was allowed to see the view outside for the first time in so many years. I quickly ran outside my cell and descended down the staircase that Neptune materialized. I did this as fast as I could because he can make the staircase disappear anytime, making me plummet to my death.
"However, that does not mean that you are fully free," Neptune continued as I ran like a madman across the halls. His voice resonated even through the thick dungeon walls and through twists and turns. "You are still a prisoner in yourself. You may have been let out of this tiny cubicle you have learned to call home for a decade, but you are still also a prisoner in the world. All the bitterness you have in you right now will continue to confine you. I'm simply moving you to a bigger prison. Freedom is nothing but illusion to you…"
I did not really heed his words that are useless to me now. His words are just a way for him to dampen my spirit and discourage me from going back to the world. He's already letting me out of the prison cell. I'm off to a fresh start now. I'm sure that, after ten years, no one will even remember me for the bitter failure I am, so what confinement is Neptune talking about? Besides, I can only imagine how different I look now that I have a full beard, wrinkles, and liver spots. What's important is that I'm free from this prison and back to the world where I should be, making my way up to the throne, no longer to be trampled on and treated like gum under someone's shoe.
I caught up for breath after I descended to the last step in the grandiose staircase right in front of the gigantic front doors of Neptune's Palace. For the first time in a long time, I lay down on the sand and watched the sunset as the sky gradually blackened and glittered with specks of white. I rested for a while and buried three-fourths of my body under the sand to keep myself warm for the night before I head off to Bikini Bottom tomorrow.
I thought of what my life will be like. The very first thing that came to my mind is that I will no longer have to read the bad literature being distributed to prisoners like me as their sole form of amusement or perhaps supplementary punishment. I have sworn to myself that I will never join that stupid writing contest. I will have to change how I will be called from now on. Perhaps I could ask to be called Sheldon even if my computer wife, Karen thought it was a funny name. Or maybe James, my middle name that I've never used in my entire life. As soon as she crossed my mind, I thought of how she was doing after ten years without me.
[Author's Note/Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, since this is a fan fiction after all, this story also takes place, technically, in a parallel universe, unbeknownst to any of the characters. None of this actually happened or will happen in the actual franchise. Although I would be quite flattered if the guys behind the scenes of Spongebob would actually make a movie out of my fanfic, which is highly unlikely. But I can dream, right? In fact, a sequel to the movie is being planned and the plot might conflict with the events that will happen here. In this story, it is assumed that nothing happened in the ten years that Plankton was imprisoned until the time the story starts.]