Panic Room
For days now, in their basement was a room. A dull, silver block from floor to ceiling, it was big enough to house a few animals in, but its only use was for her husband, Jay. Every day, he treaded behind those solid plates like he just renovated another room in their home, fixing it up, making it look nice, look normal. But it wasn't for Emily. None of it was. All she could ever do though was look at her husband and wonder why. Why it was there, standing like a monument to senseless behavior. When she finally spoke was when he gave her the key and told her to lock him in.
"I'm through with the world outside with their trivial concerns and their constant need for validation," Jay looked at her with a passionate, almost crazed sense of purpose. Like this was a life's work completed. Like he was waiting to explain this. "I've worked as a therapist for almost a decade now and all I get is the same thing. Someone's cheating, someone's lying, the world is against them. No one wants their problems solved. They just want me to say they're right. That's not what I'm here for!" A huff came from Jay's mouth that only hid the growl beneath it. "It makes me so mad, and I don't want do anything short of ripping their throats out. But I can't. I mean I can but... I just need a place to escape for a while, that's all."
"Fine. I get it but putting yourself up in a cage is not much of a solution," Emily said unsure of what she just heard. "You could do anything else. Quit the job, take a vacation, turn this into a man cave for all I care, but why... this."
"I've considered my options. Everything all my 'concerned' friends gave but none of it made sense to me. I'm not going to join an activist group where everyone's yelling and no one's listening, I'm not touching any drug even if it will 'mellow me out', and I can't just quit when this is the only source of income." Jay stopped only to give a breathy laugh to a popup thought. "Did you know someone suggested therapy like they forgot I'm a therapist? Or that you only do that when you already think someone is crazy? That's borderline offensive."
"They're just trying to help, Jay. You're being a pessimist."
"I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist and I've came to a real conclusion. Everyone's so self-centered nowadays that all that matters is how much attention you get. How much praise or controversy you receive. Everyone's in it for themselves. If that's the only pursuit left in the world, then why should I take part in it any longer? I'd rather be caged in here with my own thoughts than to be out there succumbing to the views of people around me."
"You cant just cut yourself away from the world," Emily said. "Especially when you're just mad about some clients. If you just need time away, then we could go somewhere. A beach, the country, you could seclude yourself in our room but I can't just have you locked in the basement where I can't see you. I want to see you. Don't you want to see me?" There was silence. Silence for too long giving her all that she needed to know. "You don't."
"I do," Jay tried to comfort her through his arms. "I love you Emily... but I cant just be around people. Not now. Not when I keep seeing all of the same self-centered bullshit everywhere I turn. I need to be with me until I can figure this out."
He felt the need to kiss her but she backed away from his arms, herself pacing, getting angry, trying to figure out what was happening.
"No no. This is stupid. This isn't... why the hell are you doing this?! You spent days and god knows how much money just to put yourself behind bars!"
"I thought you of all people would understand."
"How can I understand this? A little frustration and suddenly you build something that's totally crazy!"
"I'm not crazy!" Jay refused to hold it back any longer. "I'm sick of hearing it! This is my method! My way of coping!"
"There are better ways, Jay! You don't have to lock yourself up. Just because no one will listen to you doesn't mean you have to treat everyone else the same way."
"What is wrong with this, huh? What is wrong with what I'm doing!"
"Everything! You don't even care how this will affect me. What am I suppose to do while you're here? Live without a husband? Sleep alone in our bed? Bring food down every night like am taking care of some prisoner? I couldn't handle that. I can't handle that!"
"Listen to yourself. You sound as selfish as the rest of them."
"Well maybe I am because I didn't marry someone to have stuck in a cage."
With remorse, with anger, she looked him in the eyes. She saw nothing for her to grab hold to. No sense of regret or sadness she could appeal to. He's changed into something else. Something that maybe needed this cage after all. All she could do was look at her husband and wonder why. Why he was standing there like a monument to senseless behavior. She dropped the key back in his hand, and walked away, out the door, out of what ever life this was now becoming.