Echoes in the Walls

Still I sit at the center of the hall facing where I’d go if I moved. Time has become irrelevant in my world. Whether it’s been a few minutes or a hundred years isn’t discernible. There isn’t a day or night to tell. There isn’t anything. Nothing changes in this place.

The region I’m in is filled with empty pods. No sight of dead clones anywhere. Indents riddle the wall opposite the pods more frequently, visible from one another. Yet, no door. No exit. No escape. No anything. Never anything.

I’ve decided to sit and wait. My attempts to kill myself are fruitless. My attempts to starve fruitless.

Finding and end to this hallway. Fruitless.

Finding a living clone. Fruitless.

Deviation is nonexistent.

I’ve been consumed by madness many times over just to regain sanity back in this hell. Cried and screamed until blood gushed from my lungs, enraged or sad. Maybe neither.

Maybe both.

I’ve been sitting here a while. Maybe.

Too long for sure.

“Kshhhhhhhhhhh” like radio static, comes from above. Too far up to see the source. Then a squeak followed by a lingering fading ring.

An intercom? I could be losing my mind. Again. There’s no reason to react. I’ll likely never hear the sound again.
”Kshhhhhhhhhhh” and I’m interested. “Tffff, tfff, tfff,” tapping on the microphone. And then it cuts off.

By the time it’s over I’m standing scanning the dark void overhead. There’s something way up there. Beyond where I can see. Is this how the other clones died? Climbing up into the void and eventually falling down eternity to this hall below? To a sudden smack and then darkness? Is this my inevitable, literal downfall?

I stand and keep walking. I’m not falling for the games of my mind.