Imprisoned
It's a local haunt, the ancient stone prison which still stands on a small city street. You might miss it if you drive too fast. The city's best kept secret is the view from the abandoned building's roof, but to get there you need to do some sneaking, some climbing, a little manuevering. It's anyone's guess what ghosts haunt the crumbling structure's abandoned cells, or what makes the noises in the basement. There are stories of murder, torture, hangings. There are stories that would scare the ghosts themselves away, but not the teenagers.
No. Nothing deters the young, the invincible.
Not even the police. There's a constant battle of wits between the cops and the kids when it comes to this old prison. The police find a way to seal it, the kids find a way to break back in.
There is a hole broken through at the base of a wall on the first floor, currently the only way in or out of the building. A small hole, perhaps three feet in diameter. Just large enough to squeeze your shoulders through and drag the rest of yourself inside.
And there! See? If you look very closely you can just see the movements of tonight's crowd. Three bodies jumping and sliding between shadows, locating the break in a chain link fence by the lazy light of a street lamp in the distance, leaping over the drainage ditch that encloses the old brick stronghold. If you come closer- walk stealthily now- you can just see the spot where the bricks have been chiseled away and removed. One by one, they disappear inside: first the smallest girl, the apparent leader of the crew, then a young man, who seems slightly less sure but dives in anyway, throwing himself past his fear into the dark unknown on the other side of that tiny opening. The third person, larger than the first two, seems to size up the space, debating whether he will be able to fit through, and then with some coaxing from his friends also squeezes through into the prison.
Ironic, isn't it? To break into a structure that countless others have so desperately wished to break out of.
What say we follow them more closely?
The break in the fence, it's here, see? I'll go through first and hold it open for you- careful, it's snagged a piece of clothing. Don't want to tear any holes, do we? Now, can you make it over the ditch? It's not so very wide, see? Just a good jump, you can make it-
Yes! Excellent!
We're almost there now. I hope you aren't terribly claustrophobic. The wall is thicker than you think it would be. But you're only in the tunnel for a moment, out on the other side before you know it. Well, no I have no idea what's in there. Of course it's not safe, why else would we do it? Just go on in now, I'm right behind you.
Inside the prison, the cells stand small and close, the bars mostly rusted away, but some relics still resting not quite in peace here and there- a toilet bowl, mostly broken, long unused. A rusted metal plate on the floor of a cell. A tin can. What's left of a bed. Anything wooden has decomposed long ago. But what is metal or concrete or brick has somewhat better stood the test of time. Most of the windows are shot out or broken, but some of the glass is left intact. Stay away from the windows now, we don't want to betray our presence.
There is a staircase at the end of the hall, going up to higher levels and down into a cavernous basement. We dare not descend. Up it is. One flight, the next, and another.
Of course the structure is sound. Yes, I'm sure. It's stood for hundreds of years, it won't cave in tonight. Keep climbing.
I said stay away from the windows!
What did you see? A police cruiser? Here, let me look.
No lights, and they're driving away from us. It's just a coincidence. They don't know we're here. Come on, I'll show you the roof.
There's a ladder on the top floor, perhaps fifteen feet tall, extending to a hole in the ceiling. Treaturous to climb in the winter time when there's ice on the rungs, but in this warm time of year it's perfectly safe. I've climbed it a dozen times.
You're afraid of heights? And you tell me this now? Come on, you can make it. I promise, the view from the top is worth it. Would you rather I climb up first or follow you up?
Alright, look- I'm right behind you. On the rung below you're feet. If you fall I might even be able to catch you!
Okay, come on now, you're only six feet off the ground. I know you can do better than that. There you go, one rung and the next. One at a time. I'm right below you now, so don't take any steps backward.
Oh, if you keep shaking like that you will fall off! Now come on, you can't move when you're grasping the ladder like it's a ship's mast in a storm. Keep it moving! I promise, the minute you're up an the roof you'll feel better. There you are. So close now, just a few more feet. Don't look down now. I said DON'T look down! Oh, come on.
Okay. You're on the last rung you can climb to now. You have to take one hand off the ladder- stop shaking so hard, you're making me nervous! Yes, like that. Hold on with one hand and use the other to push up on the metal door in the ceiling. There you go! Now just climb through the hole- Yes! Perfect! You're up. See, that wasn't so bad. Come to the ledge now, look at this view! You can see the whole city from here. My favorite view. There's downtown. And there's the river. And there's the freeway over there, see it? And the stars- aren't they bright tonight?
What are you looking down for? Nothing interesting on the street and you're missing this view! What? The cop car is back? It's parked now. Across the street. Did you see an officer get out? I can see through the windsheild even from here, and there's no one in the driver's seat. I'll walk the perimeter of the roof and see if I can glimpse anyone moving at the base of the prison. If anyone comes in we need to get down the ladder fast and find a place to hide.
There!! I see someone! He's at the entrance where we came in. But... why isn't he entering? Is he waiting for someone to leave so he can catch them coming out?
No, wait. Look closer. What is he holding? Bricks? Is he... he can't be! I think he's sealing the exit! Come on, we need to go!
Fast! Down the ladder! Faster! I don't care, we have to go!
Now run down the steps. I said run, not fall! I swear, if we get trapped here because of your clumsiness... You're ankle? We don't have time for a sprained ankle! Lean on me, I'll help you down the rest of the stairs.
Okay, we're almost there. I think we can make it. One more flight of steps. Ten more steps. Good. Almost there- five more, four, three, two, one- we're on the bottom level! Okay, I'm going to leave you here and make sure the entrance isn't sealed off yet. I'll run. I won't leave without you. The officer must still be here. He can't be finished yet. I'll make it. I can make it... we can't get sealed in....
"Hey!" I yell. "Hey, we're still in here!" I bang on the brand new brick filling in the hole that used to be our exit route.
"Hey!" I yell louder. "Come on! You can arrest me, I don't care, just don't lock us in here!"
I yell louder, "HELP!" But there is no reply, no hurried chiseling from the outside, only the echo of my voice as I start to give up hope.
I hear the scuffling of running feet echoing in the cavernous hall behind me and the blinding rays of flashlights.
Three teenagers come up behind me, shining their lights in my eyes.
"Who are you?"
"What's going on?"
"Why the yelling? Do you want to get us all arrested?"
They jump when they hear you dragging your bad ankle, limping and groaning through the pain. Like they've seen a ghost down here in this dusty hole of a place. I might welcome a ghost at the moment. Maybe he would know how to get us out of this predicament.
"We're sealed in," I moan. "They sealed the exit. We're trapped."
You gasp and almost pass out. One of the kids catches you.
"We can't be..." the timid boy says.
"Does anyone have phone signal?"
"None here."
My own phone is dead.
"There has to be another way out," says the small girl, the one who first climbed into the building.
"That was the only way I knew of," I say. "But maybe we could signal from the window?"
We spend the rest of the night trying to flag down cars with our flashlights shining from the windows, but it's a brick building in a small city of brick buildings, situated along a little-used road, and if you drive too fast you miss it. No one sees us, no one hears our cries for help when we yell until our voices go out. Ironically, the bars across the windows are the only ones still intact and strong enough to keep us from being able to climb out.
We are trapped, enclosed, entombed in this abandoned building.
Imprisoned in a prison.
(Critique Requested)