Friday, 11 April 2014

Held in Captivity

I surrendered my ID and other documentation as per their request. They took down my personal details and handed me a number – 118. I was instructed to join the many people waiting before me. It was here, awaiting instruction with the masses that I made a friend, Holly. As we waited for our questions to be answered, we speculated about what was ahead of us. No one in the room knew for sure.

After a short while, a woman appeared through a large set of doors to my right. She was short with blonde hair and an attitude one would assume to be similar to Kim Jong-un. I feared the persecution that the woman's tone implied. As she called several groups of numbers to stand before her, many of my fellow captives obediently formed the lines she had requested.

They were lead, line by line through the doors to face their doom. I looked around the room to survey the left overs. There were people of all kinds, from different backgrounds whom held different values to my own. There were also many who seemed similar to myself. How did so many individuals end up in such a bazaar situation?

For hours I waited, my restlessness growing with every passing minute. Important looking people wearing wires to their ears and indifferent expressions strolled through the room sporadically. They didn't look at those held captive, nor did they enjoy being spoken to by the daring few that caught their attention. Holly and I began to dream of escaping without repercussion. We spoke of turning to alcohol to solve our problems. Despite our best efforts, we were unable to devise an escape plan we could be sure would not further entrap us.

Kim Jong-un's evil nanny reentered the room to claim her next victims. She held the entire room's attention as she identified those to be lead away through the doors to my right. Once the fallen had followed the stout woman to their graves, the room began to imagine what was behind the mythical exit. Snippets of questioning could be heard from various corners of the room. My fellow captives had noticed the lack of people reemerging from the doors. Soon after, several new people entered our holding pen but were ushered straight through to the exit. Why were we not one of those people? Did I or my fellow prisoners even want to be?

Inevitably, my turn came. The small blonde woman separated many people, including Holly and I, from the friends they had made. That was the last I ever saw of Holly. I was directed to form a line with other people in the room. We stood with sweaty palms and bated breath until we were lead through the doors to our much anticipated exit.

The other side of the doors were rather underwhelming. If it wasn't for the peculiar circumstances surrounding my current predicament, I would have been disappointed. Two new women were waiting in the open space to greet us. They appeared to have more authority than the angry blonde yet they came across much nicer. I was firm in my belief that despite their kind dispositions, they were capable of ending things for me, right there in that room. We were instructed to perform rather questionable tasks and provide information about our lives.

My concentration was effected by the many unanswered questions surrounding the situation. When I couldn't bare it any longer, the two woman requested the group stand in a single line facing them. This formation felt similar to what I imagine one would feel when facing a firing squad. Before I had time to think, we were addressed. We were instructed to move to the opposite side of the room when called out. Others who weren't called were relinquished to their freedom.

Many of us fidgeted nervously as they read through their list. First, a tall man was called, he towered over both of our instructors. Secondly, a small, kind looking woman joined him. Two more people were called out from the line. Then, the two leading women looked up and informed us that it was over. The rest of us were free to go.

I sighed with relief as I heard those words uttered. I looked towards the exit and could taste my freedom. There was nothing I could do but smile. I left the room and pounded down the stairs with elation. I had one thing on my mind. I reached the ground floor of the hotel and could not explain the pure joy bursting from my heart when I laid eyes upon it. Although I hadn't made it past the first round of Big Brother auditions, I could finally go to the bathroom.

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