#space prison

5:00. The harsh, piercing alarm echoed throughout the sprawling, metallic halls of the prison ship.

A young man rolled onto his side, cringing at the sound as he pressed his nose against the cold, dark wall. That’s the fifth time. Five days. 

Soon, he pulled himself up and listened to the monotone announcer over the speakers. A cold woman ordering certain numbers to go to certain places, for droids to report to certain rooms. He imagined them all moving—troopers and prisoners running through the winding halls to go where instructed. He nearly felt jealous of them, the people who were able to walk around the ship. He’d never considered how much he’d miss eating with other people.

Hell, he missed looking at other people.

Five days.

He finally stood up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. The lights were still bright in his cell—they always were, reflecting off the metal walls—but he’d managed to sleep despite them. His eyes closed for a moment, and he finally spoke in a low, rumbled whisper. 

“I’m Jake. Still Jake. I’m not gonna go crazy. It’s been five days. I’m gonna get out of here. I’m not gonna go crazy. I’ll find a way.”

This had become part of his morning routine, reminding himself of the basics. He could feel panic constantly gnawing at the edge of his brain, like a nasty headache beginning to form. It jostled a memory of his teen years, when he’d gotten trapped in a narrow part of a cave for the better part of an hour.

He’d panicked, then. He’d begun flailing, wheezing, pushing in every direction with his entire body. He’d screamed, in both languages he knew, hoping anyone would hear him. He’d sobbed, heaved, he’d felt sick. He couldn’t quite remember anymore, but he might have even called out for his mother. Ultimately—a nearby fisherman had found him, and managed to shift the stones enough to pull Jake out. He’d given him half of what he’d found in the cave—some old coins and rocks, all he had to bargain with. The man had sent him on his way, seemingly satisfied with the interaction.

He was no less trapped here. Some part of him even felt more trapped than he had in that cave.

It had been five days. Five days with four walls and a door. A box, easily half the size of his bedroom back home. Lights he could never turn off. No music, no village noise to lull him back to sleep every morning before work. He was alone in the box, floating through space, with a shock collar around his neck. Whenever he thought about it for more than a few moments, he could swear the collar was tightening. That the cell was getting smaller. Threatening to strangle him, to leave him without any air or any way out—just like the cave. 

Except, here, in his box, Jake knew nobody would come to help him if they heard him screaming.

Five days, and he had to remind himself not to go insane. He already felt like he was lying to himself. Nobody had told him how long he was supposed to be here—when he attempted to ask, they had activated the collar and sent him to his knees. The thought kept coming back to him, making his stomach churn every time.

He wants me here forever. Of course he does.

Jake began to pace, humming loudly to himself as he moved. He needed the noise, he needed to move. Just as his legs began to hurt, the door to his cell slid open. For the past four days, he’d encountered a droid every morning—a blank, sleek face, emotionlessly handing him his food and water. Today, though, he actually made eye contact with a person. A human person, one of their officers. They all looked the same to Jake, skinny pale men dressed in black. His suit was pressed and tailored, a contrast to Jake’s ill fitting gray jumpsuit.

The officer didn’t bother introducing himself, instead he opted to hold out a pair of handcuffs. When Jake stared at him in confusion, he let out a huff of air.

“The commander wants to test you in the common area. Let’s not keep him waiting.”