Torture, Anyone?

They were going to torture him, a fate worse than death, depending on the techniques*. I suppose you could say the torture had already begun. The waiting and wondering what lies ahead is a terrible ordeal in itself. My mind raced from scenario to scenario, each a bit more bizarre and painful. The tools available for this are endless. Even a simple pen can do the trick. I steal myself with the thought that I will not betray my comrade. We have sworn an oath never to rat on the other, no matter what. 

Glancing up, I see the camera at the corner of the room near the ceiling. What sick person  or persons would spend endless hours watching prisoners sweating it out in the box? They probably expect me to pace or hit the door with my fists. I won’t give them the satisfaction. But the clock on the wall keeps ticking off each second in a steady, loud rhythm. My heartbeat was in sync for a while, then it changed its tempo speeding up above the steady clock beat. The ticking sound seemed to get louder with each second. “What a clever pre-torture”, I thought. 

I decided I would take control. I would draw, that’s a great distraction. The absence of paper and pencil did not deter me. I started drawing on a virtual art pad, resting on a virtual easel. Each stroke and each gesture would send my captors in the other room into a state of perplexity and anxiety. What kind of language is this? And to whom is it addressed? Did I have a mole that would decipher this secret message when the tapes were reviewed? I threw in a few erasures to further confuse them. 

I smiled as I imagined the contorted faces of the interrogating team as they offered frantic interpretations of my artwork on their screen. There, “I’m Finished”, my lips silently spoke. I had virtually painted a large dinosaur, roughly resembling a T-Rex. “Figure that one out!” my lips stated loudly but still silently. 

After what seemed like 8 hours of imprisonment, a few verses of Row Your Boat, virtual keyboard typing of my last will and testament, and a few more pieces of fine art, the door opened slowly. My interrogator entered with slow, measured steps. He stood silently before me, about 4 feet away. His eyes seemed to pierce through me like a laser beam through butter.  Then, his head very slowly and ever so slightly scanned me looking upward and downward, barely moving a quarter inch. I noticed a light scar from his ear to chin on the right side of his face. I wondered if he was related to that Nazi guy in “Indianna Jones”, without the eyepatch of course? 

A bead of sweat seemed to form on my forehead. I knew he was calculating his next move. He lightly stroked the pen in his shirt pocket with his left hand. I was right, it will be the pen. He’s spotted weakness. His blood red bow tie drooping at the ends, matched his frown. “So this is how it all ends”, I thought with a sigh. My interrogator leaned forward- his face stopped a foot from my face. I could count his nose hairs if I only had the time and interest. A few seconds seemed like an hour. 

With that, words actually flowed out of his mouth. The principal announced in a low, slow voice, “Your father will be here in ten minutes”. I screamed out, “It was Billy! He was the one who broke the window!” At that moment I changed my career path from Army Special Forces to middle school principal- they really are good at torture.  

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*Special thanks to Dan Brown for offering the opening sentence of this short story. I  borrowed this sentence verbatim from “The Night of the Hawk”. I also confess that I borrowed the book for ten seconds from the Pelican Pens Library. I only read that one sentence. I had all that I needed or wanted. Dan, have your lawyers call my people. No, wait!  Wait!  I was only following orders. It was all Suzanne Hamilton’s idea. She told me to go steal your sentence. By the way, do you think it’s too late in life to become a middle school principal? To continue our distant and odd relationship, I would ask you to answer this question on page 30 of your next novel. Thanks. Your would be fan- Lee.