Prisoner
I reside on the top level of a skyscraper, so high in the sky that I’m too scared to look down. When I look out
the window-the only opening to outside world- all I see is thick cloud below and infinite sky above. My residence
has no door. I have no way of communicating with outside world, if such thing exists. I’ve lived in a solitary
confinement all my life, yet I have no complains. I’m quite comfortable. I don’t know how but I never run out of
food or water. I’m healthy therefore no medical attention is necessary. I don’t even feel lonely so I don’t need
companionship.
How did I end up here? How long I lived and how long I will, are the existential questions of my life. My recent
memories are insignificant and the long term recollections might be the figments of my imagination. My mere
existence might be a dream. Either I live in my own dream or in someone else’s therefore, I am temporary. Either
the reality of my life is a reflection of my dreams or the other way around. Either I wake up and realize I don’t
exist anymore or someone else will soon realize I was a dream. This is bound to happen sooner or later.
I’ve looked out the window several times and in a few occasions I had an urge to explore the outside but why?
Why should a rational man plunge into an abyss of infinite unknown? I wondered. If I could even imagine any
form of existence outside my virtual world worth exploring, I could persuade myself to commit such foolish act. I
exist in a sublime state of serenity and my only source of discomfort is this persisting curiosity.
I have everything but the answer to this question of why do I have a questions.
Recently I had this recurring nightmare. A woman jumped out of my window for no apparent reason. I raced to
help her, but it was too late. She was already in midair on the verge of a free fall and I could only see her feet
from ankles down- from ankles up because she was in an upside down position. And in a split second, her
husband courageously stormed toward the window to save his wife’s life and extended half his torso out the
window frame and grabbed her both ankles in the air. She was too heavy to be lifted up therefore before I could
react, she pulled him down too. My life is not by any means as dull and uneventful as it may seem.
Once in a while, I see people in my apartment and I don’t bother to ask them any questions of why and how
they arrived as they’re harmless protagonists of my dreams. The scenario is quite mundane. A person appears
before me and calmly walks toward the window to plummet to her ultimate demise. On several occasions, I tried
to convince them otherwise but I always failed.
During these eerie encounters however, I get acquainted with some of these people. A few I like and the rest I
don’t. The ones who seem interesting though, are not much different than others. During these short few steps,
if they give me a headache by the monotonous talk about their dull lives, then I excuse myself to make a cup of
tea and stall in the kitchen until they’re out the window, then I return. I’ve been drinking tea a lot lately.
I don’t consider myself to be a prisoner in true sense of the word. However, I have no other way to describe
my state of existence. I have not chosen to be here and cannot leave if I wish unless I take the ultimate steps
toward the window and to explore the unknown. The window is the portal to knowledge. If I dare to know who I
am, I may no longer exist. Therefore, it’s safe to say that, this comfortable life is my prison.