I shift uncomfortably, jammed between boxes and packing crates, my limbs tangled into ratchet-ribbons holding everything down, and anxious sweat slicks across my brow and cheeks, stinging my eyes, trickling down my neck and soaking my t-shirt.Trapped in the dark with only the soft, weeping murmurs of the others, and the scent of too-close, unwashed humanity (and fear) reeking in my nostrils, I allow my mind to wander down corridors which seem to double back on themselves and arrive at the same inevitable solution: failure.
It was my only chance – it took all I had – I can’t do this again – I’m going to fail – It’s over; the pattern replays, speeding up to keep time with the elevated beating of my heart as terror grips me, my chest spasms again, and the darkness becomes weft through with hallucinations rising from my fourth panic attack since climbing in.
The driver has all my money – if this doesn’t work, I can’t go back, and I can’t leave, and the reality is that my life may be ended for me.
The panic attack slows and I catch my breath again as I try to decide whether it was serendipity or a cruel twist of fate that I was shown to these lorries in that dockside car park. A small, desperate whisper reverberates throughout the oppressive, suffocating darkness of the container, followed by a smell which climbs into my throat and makes me gag – the stench of someone having shat themselves now also destined to be our travelling companion for as long as the journey lasts.
Come and join Six Sentence Stories by clicking the image above.
This week’s prompt was PARK, and my story was inspired by the current hot-topic of illegal immigrants being brought into the country on lorries, and all the controversy surrounding their entrance, and the way they get (in every sense) taken for a ride.
I don’t know why I’m always amazed at how well you pull me into the story. I didn’t realize I was sitting here breathing in my nose, out my mouth..the way I do when I’m anxious…until I was to the end. Very vivid and so, so much for just six sentences. Bravo!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ohhhh thank you DA, for explaining how this post affected you – you know that always gives me a little writer-high 😉 *grins* I like that you got pulled into it.
LikeLike
I can’t even imagine the horror and fear, however you painted a vivid picture.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you – I tried my best, and I’m glad it worked. I can’t really imagine it, either. It must be awful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great writing, Lizzi. The inhumane things that so many people have to go through to try and build a better life for themselves is maddening and horrifying and so so sad…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. All of that. And SO SO much exploitation is involved and it’s very upsetting but another thing we (at large) sweep under the rug.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such an horrendous situation. Great writing Lizzi
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s really shockingly bad, and I hate that people end up in such a desperate place.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know. Getting worse
LikeLike
Is there a prize for getting the most out of six sentences, because if there is, you won it!
I’m with Vince; my arms ached, my breath quickened, I could smell the many odors, and I felt the darkness pressing down on me in those 6 sentences. Magnificent!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ohhhh THANK YOU! I love hearing your reaction to what I write.
LikeLike
Despite the horror of escaping poverty and discrimination in this way the privations of the journey are nothing compared the relief at having survived the journey and being accepted as genuine refugees.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No – I guess the dream is worth the risk, but I just wish more made it, rather than being jettisoned to die, or being hauled away by authorities who aren’t very sympathetic.
LikeLike
Are you confusing this with air travel?
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, I hope not! EEEK!
LikeLike
“my limbs tangled into ratchet-ribbons…”
Reading this actually made my arms hurt a bit! You’re so good at imagery.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks 🙂 I like to try to make people ‘feel’ my writing, if I can 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Definitely felt that one!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awesome 😀
LikeLike
I am thinking this is how you were feeling the moment you realized you would not just be meeting friends but their families. Glad you got it out of your system and can now enjoy your adventure
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nope – genuinely this was imagined in 20 minutes this morning after the prompt, and letting my mind wander over recent things in the news.
I’m excited to meet my friends’ families but also nervous. And I hope no-one shits anywhere near me!
LikeLike
Fantastic. You totally captured the claustrophobic suffocating sickening feel. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you – that was what I was going for 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
My sister’s sister-in-law married a man who came to America from China in a container ship as a small child. The pain and experience were worth it – Freedom (and adoption) was the prize.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow….what an amazing personal link to this piece…I’m so glad the reward was worth it, and that he got those opportunities.
LikeLike
Frist!
it sounds exactly like Texas and our border problems.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s probably (disappointingly) the same the world over 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
I suspect it is. The trip out of Tibet means you get to the foot of the Himalayas first then walk for a month to get out of the country. But getting to the mountain is a lot like this from what I hear. It means paying your life savings, hiding in the back of a smugglers truck under other cargo and hoping you don’t get stopped and searched. You captured it. The failure there often results in prison or death. Sad as I suspect it is the world over. Thanks for linking up Lizzi, this is a stellar six sentence story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ack. I hate the lengths people have to go to, and that they’re treated as less than luggage, often in order to be safe. Hate hate it. And you’re welcome.
LikeLike
It is. And worse in some places.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know 😦 Hate that.
LikeLiked by 1 person