There are moans.
There is singing and heated conversations….
There are slamming doors and echoing footsteps
There are always echoes
….in my prison.
My name is Clarke.
First names are not important inside these walls, there are many….
It’s easy to get confused.
Sometimes it’s even hard to remember mine own….
I am the Warden here and I am the present lone administrator of this ‘facility’.
….for the time being at least.
Let me tell you about this unique establishment, our ‘home’ so to say.
There are walls of course, close and gray.
Nonetheless, the inmates here know that the walls are real….out there.
They have held prisoners for years but now they show wear….decay.
I fear that they are weakening as I get older.
The prison walls are vast and have proven inadequate a few times throughout all these years.
In my experience….nothing is escape proof.
This fact keeps the inmates with some glimmering hope of escape and that is dangerous.
You see, I built this prison.
I built it with blood, sweat, tears, broken hearts, betrayal, loss, guilt, regrets and weakness.
These are some of the most costly and durable materials known to man and soul.
They are ideal for building the prison of my mind.
From a lone watch tower in the middle of this prison, I often see my inmate’s far away stares, looking for a way over my walls, wondering where the sky is, the barrier.
A man that can see his limits will always travel there to see what lies beyond….
These inmates know that I will never let them out.
There are no pardons, reprieves nor appeals.
There is no escape.
I must keep them where they belong.
There have been some inmates that have tried to reach the high thick walls, and a few that have actually tried to scale the barbed battlements….
They never make it….
I thank God for that.
I can’t let even one escape.
They can be dangerous, treacherous men.
As with any place of forced confinement, there will always be contempt for the master.
There are always clashes of course, one inmate against another, to reign supreme.
I can’t let this happen…
I cannot let one inmate gain control of the others.
Together, as a force, they will over-run me and my walls.
I know these convicts all too well, even more than they know themselves.
They are lost men….
They are shadows of me.
They hate me.
I hate them…
I pity them.
I am the creator of these men that I keep in bondage, sentenced to forever, freed only by my death.
They feel that they deserve a chance.
That it is not their fault that they are who they are….what they are.
This is where my pity for them must end.
I know that I have given life to these monsters….
I can’t let them escape.
I know what they have done and what they are capable of.
We will all pass thru what remains of this life together.
We are all prisoners here.
Sentenced to forever in this prison of my mind.
I can’t let them escape.
I am the last bastion against the torn souls that I have created and they have been fettered by the chains of my desperation to keep them inside.
To keep them safe…..