After several seconds of lying of the floor with my eyes closed, I attempted to open them, only to be blinded yet again by the white light that seemed to be filling the room.

“Isaac!” I screeched, my voice raspy from sleep, “Would you turn off the light?”

No answer.

“Isaac! Turn it off so I can get some sleep! Isaac?…” My voice trailed off as I reached down around my ankles searching in vain for my blanket, when my hand brushed something unexpected. Jeans. I was wearing my jeans. I didn’t recall going to bed in them, in fact I distinctly remember changing out of them because as I slipped my shirt over my head I remember elbowing Isaac in the face. He complained that I needed to stop changing so close to his desk but I argued it wasn’t my fault considering I couldn’t so much as brush my teeth without hitting my elbow repeatedly against the wall. Come to think of it I think I remember brushing my teeth this morning too.

The lights dimmed, and I decided to try opening my eyes again. Immediately regretting it, I snapped my eyes shut, my head spinning, trying to process what I had just seen. I figured I must be going crazy or something or maybe I was still asleep. I blinked a couple times, but to my dismay the image didn’t change. White cushioned fabric plated the walls, ceilings and floors, leaving nothing but a small florescent bulb screwed into the only visible pocket of plastered surface directly above my head.

“What the heck?” I couldn’t help myself from saying as I sat up with my eyes fully open for the first time, taking in the perfectly square box I was now residing in. My hand distinctly headed to my pockets, without thinking, looking for my cell phone. It wasn’t there, but I emptied my pockets anyway: a racecar from that kid I babysat two nights ago, a pack of gum, a box of matches, my keys, and my wallet. I flipped open my wallet, checking to make sure everything was still there, and it was. Not a single cent, card, or ID was missing. Staring down at my wallet, as if I was hoping it would just magically come to life and tell me what to do, I moved my drivers license back and forth watching as the holographs flickered across the surface of the card. What the hell am I doing?

I tossed my wallet aside and almost instantaneously the lights went out. I heard scuffling around the cell and pictured huge rats crawling around the room. The longer the scuffling went on the more I realized that it wasn’t scuffling at all- it was a rope moving through a pulley. I reached out a hand and the lights flashed back on.

My wallet was missing, and when I say wallet, I mean my actual wallet. The contents of my wallet however were still there, laid out methodically across the stark cell floor. I crawled over to find five things: a pile of gift cards all of which I was sure were empty, my various ID cards, some fortune cookie fortunes I kept for God knows why, and a picture my dad and me taped to the back of a Chicago cub’s baseball card. I smiled a little as I looked at the card, the corners worn and white from years of being jammed in to various wallets. I hardly even recognized this man. Oh yeah, there was also the check for $20 thousand dollars my father had given to me when I graduated high school last weekend before he said to leave and go make something of myself.

The lights flicked out again, but this time it was followed by a voice, booming throughout the cell like God himself was speaking to me, “The lights will not come on again, find the latch, find the exit.” A loud click followed the message, like the one on the school intercom, echoing around the room until the air grew still and stale again. A test. If I hadn’t known it before, I sure knew it now. Who the hell was this person? Whatever, I could worry about that later. I fumbled around the floor feeling for the box of matches, striking one as soon as they touched my fingertips. I was relieved to see the glow of a light.

With my hands still empty after an hour of patting the wall, I was almost out of matches. I had discovered quite quickly that the fortune cookie fortunes made nice paper torches. Then my hand hit something. It was a seam; a separation in the fabric that could only mean one thing, the latch. As my last fortune burned like some strange metaphorical incence, I shoved back the fabric enough to see the polished chrome handle, above it a tiny safe dial. My light fizzled out.
“What is this!?” I screamed as the ceiling, waiting for the demon like voice to speak to me from above. “The code is 100211931020410. Good luck,” the voice bellowed, followed by the familiar clicking noise. My fingers shaking with angst, I fumbled with the box, counting the matches with my fingertips. Two. I was out of fortunes, so I struck the match and held it between my fingers. Quickly I began spinning the small dial. “1-0-0-2-1-1--shoot shoot shoot.” The flame licked the tip of my finger, causing me to throw the match across the room and watch helplessly as it was swallowed by the blackness. I hadn’t even made it halfway through the numbers and I couldn’t risk trying to finish the numbers on just the other match alone. I pulled the picture of me and my dads, as well as the 20 thousand dollar check from my pocket. Eenie meenie…

Screw it.

I watched as the check went up in flames. After finishing the code, the concealed door swung easily open.