Lona

I have been here for two weeks, or a month or two, I don’t remember. I have not the faintest idea how she managed to put me here. I had woken up with a head-splittig headache to find a note welcoming me hanging on the wall on which you’re reading this, I found some pencils in the corner. The room is virtually empty, no door and no window, how I’m breathing is something beyond me.

I was beginning to lose my sanity, only writing kept me in touch with reality, or what I think is reality. During the past weeks, or months, I had conversations with people from my childhood and adolescence, teachers, friends, girlfriends, people I knew before I became a complete recluse. They seemed vivid though, but I hadn’t become insane yet, I think, I knew they were hallucinations……visions….. if you will.

Hello, a soft female voice broke the silence one day.
Who is this, I replied.
This is lona.
Who are you?
Your captor, apparently.
How did you get me in here, where am I, why are you doing this?
Questions will only ruin your stay.
What do you want from me.
You.
I don’t understand.
You don’t get to understand.
Why?
Have you been paying attention to what am saying?
When will I get out?
Whenever you like.
Ok, I wanna go home now?
Really? Home? So you can stay alone watching T.V. and playing videogames?
How do you know that?
I know a lot, you wanna go home?
It’s better than here.
I can put you anywhere you like, under one condition, you will be alone.
What about services and food?
You won’t need services or food anymore, it’s time you enjoyed euphoria.
Drugs, you mean?
Drugs only simulate euphoria, I can give you the real thing, just ask, but know there is no coming back to your home
Am I dead?
Since you are actively participating in this conversation, then no.
What are you?
Lona.

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