Falling...falling...falling.
I was falling. At first it was scary, oh I was crying and praying to all the gods I could think of. But by the time I had gotten to Odin and Loki I realized something: I had been falling for a really REALLY long time.
Using what wit I had left I figured that it was pretty absurd to even fall through a mirror in the first place, and all around me was nothing but infinite reflections of myself so I was clearly not falling through the ground or something.
Is that it then? Rapture? Or maybe it was the End Times or maybe...oh sweet Sun God, no.
Ragnarök??!?
Of course such silly thinking only lasted for a few moments before I simply became bored, so bored that I actually ended up falling asleep.
In hindsight that was probably a mistake. Falling through time and space, something that I am sure more than a few would give their life to experience...and I fell asleep. Yep, I regret it.
But more than missing the experience what I really regret is the situation that followed, the situation that I am now in.
Writing in a notebook that I had to fight to the death to obtain, in an underground prison for a crime I do not even remember committing, and surrounded by the worst criminals you could ever imagine.
Rapists, Arsonists, Cannibals...but strangely enough these folk were only contained near the top of the prison. I found this out in my first few days, yes it has been days, but apparently the further down you go the worse the criminal.
Which really strikes me as strange, as what could be worse than everything I just listed above?
I asked around for a few days and eventually I got my answer from a toothless old man who had apparently decided to one day play golf with the head of an infant.
"Who gets imprisoned down there? Boy, you have a lot of courage I see...to be asking about those vile freaks that are trapped down there. Listen here, " began the disgusting man, who then leaned in nice and close to my face to continue in a whisper, "those fellows down there...they aint human I tell you. The things they have done, oh boy, I would rather eat my own testicles served raw on a plate of dogshit than have to be imprisoned down there. You know what they did?"
To which I shook my head slightly, because obviously I didn't know since I was asking in the first place. Also because his breath smelled like death itself so I was scared to open my mouth and risk tasting his spittle, or maybe it smelled like that moldy sock I found under my bed a year ago? Ah socky, I wonder how he is doing...
"Boy," breathed the man in a whisper, pulling me from my sweet memories of my favorite half mold half rot pet.
"Down there...they is dissenters I tell you. They did such things like question the great leader's words and some of them did the worst of all...they...they tried to protest peacefully."
The man had a look of disgust and fear on his face, even his body posture was completely defensive as if the great enemies he spoke of were right behind him ready to use their vast experience as professional criminals to...peacefully suggest that he partake in free thought?
Wait a bloody second, no wait three bloody seconds actually. The hell kind of crime is that? Why is the guy who played putt putt golf with a child's head considered not as bad as peaceful protests. Not even VIOLENT protesting at that, huh.
Being the conscientious person that I was, I automatically voiced my opinion aloud.
Which of course was a mistake, but you know what they say: Hindsight 20/20
"Wait, how is that worse than being a rapist? Why would you not be allowed to do such simple things like questioning authority and the like. I mean, I am no anarchist but you can at least politely inquire about things...right?"
It took me about three full seconds to realize I may have screwed up, then another three seconds to realize I may or may not be screwed.
I watched as the man I was talking to froze up and fled in terror while screaming, "FREE THINKER, FREE THINKER, FREE THINKER."
Although the way he ran was quite amusing seeing as he had the leg strength of a well worn toothpick, as well as the air raid siren sounding yell he was screeching, the dozens of flood lights that shone on my face and the cold cast iron barrels that were pointed in my direction took any enjoyment away at once.
"Uh, fellas...that was...that was a joke, yeah! I was just kidding you see. I always wanted to be a comic, I would look at the comedy club storefront every single day just dreaming that I would one day be able to join the ranks of those great men. Alas, I was doomed to never succeed in my dream because it turns out I am terrible at comedy. Which you see here and now with your own ears, so forgive me will ya?" said the great I, eloquently crafting an excuse off the top of my head that only the most elite and hardened of bullshitters would be able to come up with.
Alas, it seemed that there was some kind of cultural gap present for the words I received in return was not what I had expected.
"Comedy was outlawed twenty years ago and is classified as a felony punishable by cruel and extremely unusual punishment. GRAB HIM."
I was then tackled to the ground by a bunch of buff men wearing prison warden outfits, an experience I assure you I never want to have again. Maybe if they were female...or at least not as buff as those muscles are rock solid!
Nevertheless, I was then dragged out of the low security holding cell and towards a spooky looking elevator that was teetering unsteadily above a massive and endless pit.
Down, down, down I went. Being forced from my comfy cell with murderers and arsonists and in with the REAL criminals...people who posted leaflets and addressed public crowds...?
Culture gap indeed...