Caged

“Don’t leave me in here,” he whispered.

“Please, please, don’t leave me!”

I shut the cage he was locked up in, making sure there was no chance of him getting out.

Quickly, he ran up from the back of his cell and grabbed the cage door with his bony hands.

“You can’t do this! You can’t keep me out!” He yelled.

“But I can. And I very much will,” I replied through the cage.

His hideous face went still, realizing my mind was already made up. He let go of the door, easing up his body at the same time. And in a calmer but much more eerie voice, he told me…

“Very well, so be it. If you think you can hold me in here, go ahead, believe that. You know it won’t.”

I looked at him in disappointment, knowing he wasn’t wrong.

“You know that won’t bring anything but pain — For the both of us.”

He licked his chapped lips and began to hobble back & forth in his tiny cage.

“Pain — What a weird way to look at something so relieving. You can’t tell me you don’t find it at least a little relieving.”

I hid my feelings as I watched him in disarray.

“Come on. You know the feeling. And I know you want the feeling. Just let me out,” he tried to persuade.

I wanted to rebuttal, but I knew that would only be me arguing with myself. So instead, I shook my head in disapproval, turning around as I went to leave the room. But, right at the door, he stopped me with the sound of his voice.

“You know I’ll break out,” he said quietly.

I stood still for a second, holding the door handle as I let out a faint breath. I felt pressure to respond, but I remained in control as I opened the door and left the room.

“Who’s the guy caged in my basement?” People never ask.

And honestly, even if they did ask. I don’t think I would have an answer best suited. Because it’s not a ‘guy’ down there. Hell, it’s not even a Thing. It’s more of a What, a How, a Why. Doesn’t really matter in the end, but if one thing is certain, it’s that ‘That’ is not a ‘guy’.

I rarely get the chance to introduce it to anyone. Whenever I do, it almost always ends up in violence. They say I’m supposed to keep it locked away. Locked away so it can’t hurt anyone, including myself. And most times I do, but simply stated, my locks aren’t big enough to keep it out.

Once I left the room, I walked up the basement stairs to the rest of my house. I had no clue how long he would be able to stay down there, but I was hoping it would be longer than the times before. As of now, I needed rest for the morning so I could be right and ready for the thing that pays my bills.

The next day was as normal as any other day of mine. Woke up, got something to eat, and then headed out for the day. I worked at a gas station down the street. Not the most luxurious jobs, but after what happened at my old one, I was lucky to get this position. It didn’t pay me nearly enough, and my boss didn’t really like me, but it would have to do.

My job was simple and easy. Clock in, check people out after they bought something, and then clock out. It wasn’t hard, but it was a people job. I would have to interact with people, over and over and over again. I typically had no problem with it, but those ‘people’ were bound to have a problem with something. Why? Who knows. Didn’t matter, but it was something that I wouldn’t prefer to do if I had any other choice.

Today was alright — Slow day. No thieves, no Karens, and no mischievous kids. By the end of the day, I was completely worn out and looking for a nice lie down at home. So when I got back, I turned on some TV, grabbed some popcorn, and laid down to watch whatever was on.

The house was empty, like usual. Something that I was looking to change one of these days, but unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend to. As of now, I must just try and keep myself afloat while watching my savings slowly drain with every given week.

It was fifteen minutes of me sitting around before I felt a sensation call out to me.

I turned my head to the basement stairway, looking down at the darkness below.

I had no door covering the stairway to the basement, just an empty doorframe. If you got up right to the base of it, you could see the door to the basement room at the very bottom. The door that I refused to open for myself.

All I felt while looking at the stairway was dread and discontent. I felt something itch at me from the inside, as if a bug was trapped beneath my skin. It made me uncomfortable, made me nervous. I knew it was trapped down there, but at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t be trapped down there forever.

The TV felt quiet as I kept looking that way. I began rubbing my hands together, trying to exert any built-up energy that has been pushing my anxiety. But, no matter what I did, the feeling I got just became stronger and stronger. I felt this pressure burning inside of me, and it just wouldn’t come out. I had to stop looking, I had to stop thinking. So, in an instant, I sat up from my couch and went upstairs, ready for tomorrow.

The next few days began to become clockwork. Just a slow repetition coming and going every single day. I wish I could’ve said things were getting easier, but they haven’t. I was losing money, even while working. My patience was losing bits and pieces of itself with every customer I had to check out. Good, bad, annoying, or whatever, I was still losing myself day in and day out.

By Friday, I could feel this uncontrollable energy built in my legs. It was only five minutes before my shift ended, but the clock was just not counting fast enough. Every second, I was counting in my head. “One, two, three, four…” Only to realize it has only been one. I couldn’t stand it. I was antsy, and I needed something to relieve the stress. But even with cigarettes, nothing was doing the trick.

When I got home, all I could do was pace around my house. I was sore from the strain of my life. I could feel it bleeding inside of me. The cycle of things I didn’t want to do was getting at me more and more. I couldn’t say it enough. I felt something digging away at me. I needed to relieve myself in some way, but how?

“BANG!”

I whipped my head around to the basement.

He was trying to get out.

No, it was too soon. He can’t be already trying to escape, no.

Again, “BANG!”

No.

I had to relax, I had to soothe myself.

I ran upstairs to my bathroom and turned on the shower. And after waiting a second for it to warm up, I hopped inside.

It was normal temperature, which would normally cool me off, but no, I was still just burning up. I twisted the knob to make it colder, but for some reason it only felt hotter, so I turned it again, and again, and again, until it was at its lowest setting, but no, I was still burning. It was no help, no help at all.

Eventually, all I could do was get out of the shower and just try to rest on the bed. I laid down for hours until the darkness ensued. The entire time, I was just trying to go to sleep, but I was just burning, I was itching for something, I wanted to release my energy, but I couldn’t. The fan was on full blast as I laid over the covers with nothing but my underwear. Yet, even then, it was still too hot, and I still couldn’t sleep.

And after another hour of lying in bed, I finally felt my eyes begin to get heavy. I was on the verge of falling asleep, but then…

“BANG!”

My eyes popped right back open. No longer tired, shocked, and wide awake.

“BANG!” I heard again, and again, and again.

The sound wasn’t stopping, and I wasn’t sleeping. It was half past three, but even though work was in the morning, nothing was helping me shut myself down. The pain just kept growing, and the struggle only intensified as the banging continued to go on in the heat of the moment.

Morning soon arrived, and sleep has not been achieved. I was tired, I was breaking from the seams, but I had to pay the bills.

I arrived at work a few minutes late. My boss wasn’t happy, which he made clear after giving me a stupid little lecture like I was a disobedient kid — annoying me like a pest. I was too tired to say anything back. I just began my daily regiment like usual, letting the hours come by one at a time.

Coffee kept me awake, thank goodness. Without it, who knows how quickly I would’ve fallen asleep standing up. And whenever I had the chance, I snuck a smoke behind the register, in hopes it would relieve the stress, but with every single one, I only felt more and more stuck.

The day continued to slowly trudge forward when trouble entered the door.

A few young delinquents made their way inside, as well as a woman whom I tended to up front. I knew immediately something was about to happen, just didn’t know what. All of them had stupid little grins and faces that would only call for stupidity as their voice of reason.

But as I was checking out the lady, she randomly asked me a foolish question.

“Are you on drugs?” The woman said in shock.

“What?” I told her with sharp confusion.

“No, I am just tired,” I told her.

I don’t know what I did to deserve such a considerate customer, but obviously, this wasn’t going to go well.

“No, I know what it looks like when someone’s on drugs. Where’s your manager?”

“Bang!”

“Lady, I’m not on drugs, I just didn’t get any sleep.”

“Don’t lie to me, young man. Where’s your manager?” She demanded.

“Bang!”

My blood pressure was growing at a disturbing rate, and I could feel my heart beating violently as she continued to cause a scene.

“Go, go, go,” I heard from across the store.

I looked up and saw the group of kids make their speedy escape out of the store. Whatever they took, obviously, they weren’t trying to pay for.

“Hey! Someone stop them!” My boss yelled from the back of the store, but they were long gone to be caught.

“Damnit, Daniel. Why didn’t you catch them?” he asked me.

An unsettled nerve popped when he said that. And another, “Bang!” was heard from inside of me.

“Stop them? What, you want me to run after them?” I told him spitefully.

“Well, you can’t just let them get away. Do your job.”

“BANG!”

The entire time, the lady has just been sitting there, dumbfounded about what was happening. And of course, her first words were nothing but another reason for me to break out.

“Excuse me. Yeah, excuse me. I think your employee is on drugs,” she told my boss with no second thought.

With a concerned and believing look, my manager asked me, “Is that true, Daniel?”

“BANG!” It went, cracking the first lock on the cage.

“What?! NO?! She’s — She has no idea what she is talking about!” I yelled in frustration of all this bullshit.

Both of them, with their condescending looks, just stared at me as if I were completely out of pocket.

“BANG!!”

“You’re just gonna take her side on this? Believe this old hag?” I told him with my cracking voice.

Her face stood up with a hand on her heart, mouth agape, completely offended.

“Honestly, Daniel. I don’t care what the truth is; I would’ve fired you regardless. You know why? Because I am so sick of you being a lowlife in this store. So, really, just get out. You’re fired,” my no longer manager told me.

“BANG!!” It went again, breaking the second-to-last lock on the cage.

I stood still after hearing the words echo in my head. The words of the many, replaying again and again, while the grins and faces of the others struck madness in my soul. The heat inside me began to release as steam, and my energy began to rise higher than before.

And as my eyes reflected my violent intent, I heard one more loud, “BANG!!!” before it finally broke out of its cage. I looked at my hands, realizing what I was about to do. And all I felt before it took over was one thing. And that one thing said, pain — lots and lots of pain. So, in a sudden and quick motion, I made my first move to cause just that — pain.

© 2025, John Henry. Published by WhisperPublications. All rights reserved.

— John Henry