Kidnap

I had been kidnapped. I was being held in a suite of dirty concrete rooms, along with several other people. It was probably a basement. It was about the size of a large basement, but divided into five rooms. The floors had drains in the center, and were slightly sloped to allow drainage. The walls were always damp, and the atmosphere was humid. Fungus, a sort of midnight green variety, grew in patches on the walls. Elsewhere, the clammy concrete walls were painted a disheartening green, flaking at points to reveal a sickly beige.

There were a few pieces of furniture in the basement prison. Several frail institutional card tables, some rotting wooden chairs (the backs of most were broken off), and a small stepladder. There were no beds as such. When we were all put in the basement, we had designated one room to be the bedroom. Four of the five rooms were all the same size; the other one was twice as big. Here, this is how it was:



I don't remember which way doors opened, exactly, but that's where the doors were.

We all slept in the biggest room. We had old mattresses and ragged blankets, and kept warm together. We'd wake up and find we'd all curled into a heap overnight.

The room with a W, the one farthest from the door out, had more drains than other rooms, as well as water faucets. The faucets were set at the height of showerheads, but were just regular faucets. We had some hot water, but not very much. It was as though we were under a regular house with a water heater.

Someone jimmied up one of the grates over a drain in the wet room, and we used that drain as our toilet. Accuracy was hard, but we could turn on the water and wash down the off-target excrement.

Sometimes the people who held us would open the door and shove another victim in. Usually, they only opened the door to throw in food. In either case, they'd first send an armed kidnapper in to clear out the first room. He'd stand at the door to the first room while the food or person was moved in, then leave. We'd all rush through the first room, but the door would shut too quickly.

The food was all the same texture whether chili, stew, oatmeal or tapioca. We'd get a big pot of it, whatever it was, and a stack of greasy bowls and spoons. We drank thin orange drink from a big McDonald's cooler that was replaced every day. The food was salty and the orange drink was drugged. The water from the shower room tasted horrible and caused vomiting, so we drank the orange drink. It made everything seem grainy and distant.

The lights were always on. When someone new was brought in, we would all gather around and ask him what time it was, what day, and what was happening outside. Most of the new victims were too shaken up to answer very well.

Only a couple of people were let go. We were being held for a political reason, not for money, but some people's families managed to give enough money for the kidnappers to be tempted. Revolutionaries need funding too. Another fellow had decided to stop eating, and he was eventually taken away. I couldn't tell if he was going to be released or killed.