Have You Lost Your Mind?

Have You Lost Your Mind?

I am surprised how little security there is. One guard. Marcus says he has a penchant for hard liquor, I just need to wait until he’s asleep.

It doesn’t take long. I creep towards the old, metal door. I dig into my pocket and pull out the instructions. There are no lights surrounding the doorway itself, only a large, menacing security camera.

I pull my hood over my head and re-read the door code. I hold my breath and wait to gain entry. Almost instantly, the door welcomes me in. I pull the bandana over my mouth and nose and feel claustrophobic. It is necessary, though, the consequence of being caught is death.

The building smells of chemicals. It makes me gag as it penetrates my scarf. I glance once more at the instructions.

Even though I have learnt them verbatim, I can’t unscramble the tangle of words. I need to read from the paper. The building is a mass of corridors and I know I mustn’t get lost in here. I find the right direction and start jogging.

I am sweating, I’m not sure whether from exertion or fear. It must be a couple of miles of corridor before I reach my destination.

I’m in. I gasp at all the jars on the shelves, all labelled with the names of the unfortunate souls they once inhabited. I’ll never find my mother’s. I search the labels, repulsed by the gray walnuts of humankind. The door creaks and I spin around.

“What you doing here?” the tipsy security guard says.

I gulp, unable to answer. He speaks again, “Have you lost your mind? Is it in one of these jars?”

“No,” I say. “I’m looking for my mother’s.”

I am surprised as he asks her name and starts reading labels.

300 words