Prose: There is Nothing to Eat in this House

There is nothing to eat in this house. I am certain of this because I am very hungry, and I have been for a very long time now while I searched the entire house from top to bottom, every nook and cranny. The pantry has spider webs in it, but no spiders; they starved to death. I found them dead at the bottom, and I couldn’t even eat them - all their vital fluids and stuff had been sucked out. That’s irony for you. The freezer’s got nothing but ice cubes, and I swear there’s dust in the fridge. And you know that little light bulb in the fridge? It’s burnt out.

I’d go buy some food at a store if I could. In fact, I’d have done it as soon as I found there was nothing here, but of course I am locked inside. I just woke up here, and here I am. And before you suggest the windows, I’ve tried them. All of them. Triple-paned bulletproof glass, with iron bars on the outside. It’d be a warm day in Alaska before I get through those.

A little while ago I was getting really desperate, I decided I had to cut through one of the doors. They’re only wood. So I started looking for an axe or something. I realized that not only is there nothing to eat in this house, there is nothing in it at all. Except me. And you, now. And the furniture. Don’t even bother looking for anything; you’ll only waste your strength.

Every room here is exactly the same: plain white walls and carpet, with a couple of white halogen lamps, and some white furniture that looks like it came from an alien spaceship or something. The bathroom’s down the hall, over there, on the right. There’s running water, at least. It’s okay to drink it when you get thirsty.
You could say I’ve given up hope of ever getting out of here, but I don’t know if that’s the truth. I mean, before you showed up I was pretty hopeless.

You hear that sound? Like the wind howling around the house? It’s not real. I can see the tops of trees out of some of the windows. Even though there’s no leaves on ‘em, you can tell that the wind isn’t really blowing. But still, every so often I hear the wind blowing.

There’s nothing to do in here but sit around and listen to the wind. I mean, absolutely nothing. I could keep myself occupied if I just had a piece of paper or something.

God, I’m hungry.

Oh, but don’t worry. I’m not worried about starving. I mean, I am starving, but I’m not going to starve, y’know? I’m not going to die from it.

I can’t die until you do.

About an hour before you showed up, I was trying to take apart a chair because I was bored. I spent about fifteen minutes looking all over it for something I could grab onto and tear off. They’re like leather on the outside, you see. I looked all over it, but it was completely seamless. Not a single stitch anywhere on it. So I tried to rip it open instead. Now, I’m pretty strong, y’know, I can do some damage if I set my mind to it. But this chair just wouldn’t give. In fact, it wouldn’t even budge. It was stuck to the floor.

So I went around to all of the furniture. I found one that wasn’t stuck to the floor—the couch in the other room. I turned it over and took a look at it.

It was completely hollow on the bottom. The top part was just a shell, as thin as paper. But it was still as tough as the leather on the other furniture. And it was still as heavy as a couch should be.

I tried to tear it. It didn’t work. It barely bent. It was if it was a solid couch, but part of it was invisible or just not there.

There’s a fireplace in that same room. I don’t think we can escape through it; the inside of the chimney is very slick. We’d have to stack up furniture to even try, and even if we could get the couch inside it, I don’t think that would be tall enough. Maybe if you stood on the couch, and I stood on your shoulders... or one of us learned how to fly.

I don’t think we can do that, though. Yeah, I’m pretty sure we can’t.

Did you know there’s another house you can see out the upstairs windows on the side that has the bathroom? Now, I might just have imagined this, but I think I saw a person inside it. Or, no wait - was it two people? Yeah, it was two people. Maybe they’re trapped inside, too.

It’s funny. You can’t see the ground outside these windows, but you can see other houses, and treetops, and the sky.

I wonder what it would be like if we went and met those people. Just stepped across the street and said hello. Do you think they’d like us? I do. I bet we’d make great friends. We’d get along famously.

Oh, but wait. We can’t go meet them. We can’t even unlock the doors from the inside.

I mean, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to open the doors. They’ve got hinges and everything, and as far as I can tell the doorknobs aren’t the locking kind. But they don’t move. Not at all. They’re like the furniture, except for the couch. Well, and it’s not made of indestructible leather - it’s more like indestructible wood.

If you weren’t so afraid, we could just go talk to them.

We need to get out of here, you and I. This place isn’t natural. It’s not bad, actually, but we’d have to do some serious work to make it actually livable. First of all, by getting out of here. Then by getting some food. Damn it, I could go for a pizza or two right now. I could eat a horse. Actually no, I probably couldn’t. That saying doesn’t make any sense, really. No one could eat a whole horse. Unless it was a really small horse. But then it wouldn’t be a real horse at all? No real horse is that small.

You know what? I blame you for all this, lefty.

I think this house might be haunted. I seriously do. I would believe you if you told me you saw a ghost, or a spirit, or maybe just a vision or something. Anything. Something written on the wall in blood. The toilet whispering something at you when you flush it.

You know, I think I did hear that. I had just woken up and I really had to pee. So I headed up to the bathroom. And when I flushed it, I swear I could hear this voice. I know this sounds weird, but I’m totally serious when I say this happened.

Now, this voice, it was speaking in a whisper. You know what it said? I’m not sure, but I think I said “Tell, you must tell, tell, tell, tell the story, tell what happened, tell where you are, tell” and so on and so forth. It got quieter and then just stopped when it was done flushing.

Look. Let’s make a promise. Whichever one of us gets out of here first has got to try to do something about this place, y’know, make it a good place to live. You’ll grow to hate this place. I already have; I’m not liking this any more than the toilet-ghosts are.

Toilet-ghosts. That’s just plain ridiculous. Man, what is wrong with this place? What’s wrong with me?

Don’t look at me like that. You know as well as I do that I’m dreaming.

Or wait, no. No, no - you’re the one who’s dreaming. Or maybe I am dreaming, but it’s yourI wouldn’t dream anything this bad. And that leaves you.

What’s wrong with you? How could you do this to me? After all we’ve been through?

I gotta get something to eat. This place is driving me crazy.

You and me, we’re the only mind this place has got. We gotta take care of it! I know you might think you’re content to just sit around and not give us anything to work with, but I gotta dream, and I know you gotta think. And we both gotta eat.

I can’t take any more of this.

It is time to wake up. dream. Anyway, I know