My kids have been out of school for two weeks. Two long, long weeks of constant torture. I’m about ready to write a note, stick it in a bottle, and whip it into the ocean in the hopes of being rescued.
A note like this:
Day six of captivity
Last night they tortured me with sleep deprivation. It was awful. At midnight I was getting water for one of them who was “dying of thirst”, at around 2:30am one of them needed to go to the bathroom and for some reason needed an escort. The weirdest thing though, the only other person who is being held captive with me is NEVER woken up. Or never wakes up. Or pretends not to wake up. Interesting.
My captors think I have information that they need. They pepper me with questions almost constantly. Around the clock I am answering questions about whether or not a fly poops. About what would happen if the sun never set. My opinion on whether or not I think the world will blow up. I clearly don’t have the answers to these questions, but it is pretty clear that an answer is imperative because they will literally drive me to the brink of madness until I just come up with an answer to appease them. (Yes! I’m sure a fly poops, okay?!!) What do they want from me?!
Word around the cell block is that they will let me go around the end of August, which is good news, but for now they are here all day every day right by my side. Literally RIGHT by my side. They don’t even trust me to go to the bathroom alone. Sometimes they even sleep snuggled up close to me, which is weird. Going to the grocery store is also a group event. They tell me what they want me to buy for them, then they accompany me on the trip. They huck random things into the shopping cart to try to mess me up and blow the budget. Then when we get home they complain that I didn’t get anything good. I’m like, fuck you! Only I can’t say that out loud because it is sort of frowned upon and they will punish me by repeating it in front of their grandparents.
I’m going crazy. I’m craving solitude. I’ve asked them if perhaps they could put me in solitary confinement for, like, the afternoon or something. With a book. That’s all I really need, but they just laugh like I’ve told the world’s funniest joke. Sitting alone and reading isn’t going to happen. I’ve come to accept that. What I can’t accept it the mind games. Sometimes, just to drive me completely ape shit, they will actually go and get me my book, and they will hand it to me, and I will start to read. Then just as I’m getting to the good part, “BAM” they start talking to me nonstop. NON STOP. Non f’ing stop.
I finally had to ask my fellow captive to create a diversion so that I could try to escape for a little while. It worked, and I was able to sneak out and drink a cup of hot coffee alone. I briefly thought about getting back in my car and just driving away, heading to a new town, changing my name to Charlene, and becoming a librarian. But I figured they would find me. And if they didn’t find me, my fellow captive would for sure come looking for me so that he wasn’t the only one enduring the never-ending torture. I get it. I’d probably do the same.
August seems really far away.
Really, really far away.