Something Forgotten

Authors Note: Many years ago, I wrote the music for Something Forgotten which was produced in a studio and performed live in the theater. The music had no story or lyrics. Finally, after many years, I present the story. You may enjoy playing the song as you read the story.

March 15th, 1955. I had been stuck in solitary confinement for over half a year, maybe more. Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember.  I know that the room was small and damp, neither too hot nor too cold. The food: nothing to write home about. Mostly the consistency of soup. Never any morsels but it was enough to give me strength.

Being that the confines of my cell were tight, I sat mostly with my knees curled up to my chest. When I did need to stretch, I would push my feet against one cell wall and my head against the other to try to straighten my back.

Oftentimes, when I first was placed in the cell, the twenty-four hours of solitary, day after day would cause hallucinations. My mind would lose stability. In the little to no light, I could feel my body floating. The longer I stayed in the cell, the fewer floating hallucinations I had. I then hallucinated of being trapped, wrapped tightly in an elastic membrane. I fought the claustrophobic feeling by pushing, punching, and gouging at my cell walls.

Then there was her . . . my tormentor. I could always hear her but could never see her. She called my name but would never hear me, day after day after day. Somedays, when her voice and the noises outside my tiny cell drove me over the edge, I would fly into a rage to make life for her as miserable as the pain from isolation she was putting me through.

There was only one small door out of my cell. It was closed on the day they put me in, but today the door had opened. It was March 15, 1955 and there in my cell was the lady.

“Get out!” she screamed.

“I can’t,” I cried. “My legs and arms — I can’t get through the door!”

“I said get out!” she screamed again. The whole cell began to shake.

She then grabbed my body, pounding my head into the small cell opening. For almost two hours the incredible screaming, pounding, and shoving of my body continued until my head was bruised and misshapen. And then she stopped . . . and all was quiet.

The next thing I remembered was the roof of my cell being cut open. For the first time in what seemed to be forever, the outside world flooded in. Hands reached in through the hole in the cell and grabbed my body which was too bruised and weak to stand. The hands lifted me out of the cell until my whole body was now bathed in the beautiful warm light, so bright that I could not open my eyes.

The shock of being free from the cell and being able to straighten my rounded body prevented me from breathing. I lay silent.

The hands again lifted my feet. This time until I hung completely upside down. From out of nowhere a hand slapped me quickly and hard across my backside. I cried.

“Congratulations,” I heard a voice say. It’s a boy.

Then I heard her. She was crying. They laid me in her arms, and we held each other close.

Credits: Title Photo by Vasile Taranovici. “Something Forgotten” was produced at Horse Antler Ranch in Sandpoint Idaho by Kelly Mitchell.

Faith Family Life Getting Older Growing Up Misadventures Music Patriotism Pets or Pests? Snips Tributes