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The Box

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This document was recovered by an anonymous source from the incineration bin of an institute that will go unnamed for reasons of national security. Pertinent government officials have since confirmed the contents of the document to be a work of fiction. All spelling and grammatical errors are intact. No other information is available.

Day 1


My name is Adam Frederick Rowe. I was born on September 1, 1980. my mother’s name is Emily Marie Johansson Rowe, and my father’s name is Nathan Lee Rowe. I live at 1016 Marbury Street in Lake Point, Wisconsin. I’m writing all this because I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.

I had this notebook in my pocket when I woke up. I didn’t buy it. Pencil, either. I don’t know what time it is or what day it is, I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, either. It’s a box-shaped room. There’s no doors/windows I can see. The walls, cielceiling, and floor are sheet metal. This room is made out of metal that isn’t reflective at all. I think it’s steel but I don’t know for sure. Regular bare lightbulb on the ceiling. I can’t look right at it.

The last thing I remember is going to bed at home. Wish I was there The date on that day was November 14, 2007. That could have been an hour ago, or it could have been a year ago. Maybe more or maybe less, I don’t know. Actually, I don’t have a beard, so probably day at most. I have no idea how I got here or who brought me. Or how long I’ve really been out. My head doesn’t hurt or anything, and nothing’s wrong with my body. Fuckin weird and confusing.

I don’t see any way for fresh air to get in here. Worried.

I’ve read stories about this thing happening, where some random guy gets kidnapped by some testing institute or aliens or the goverment and they do psychological tests and stuff. I think there’s this Kurt Vonnegut story where dude is stuck in a big metal room like this one and has to find a way out. He freaks out and thinks for a while, and eventually he breaks the lightbulb and uses the electricity to try and melt his way out or something, and it turns out the big door was unlocked the whole time. I don’t have a door but I do have a lightbulb. I’m not gonna break it. It’s the only light in here. I’m not going to sit in the dark for however long I’m in here.

I just got truly scared about what’s going to happen to me. Why AM I here? What am I going to eat or drink? I bet some agency or crazy scientists kidnapped me like in those stories. I hope this isn’t to see how long I last. That is not how I want to die. Am I going to die in here? FUCK. THAT!!!!

I’m hungry.. I remember hearing in school that people are made to be able to survive in hard times, so I should be good for a while. A while… I’m gonna take a nap to save energy and get being hungry off my mind. My hand has a cramp. Maybe I’ll dream about stuff that isn’t this boring, shitty FUCKING box I’m in. Good morning/afternoon/night, me.

Day 2

I don’t really know if it’s the next day or not because once again I have no idea how long I was asleep. I had to wait up until I was exhausted so I could just pass out. This floor is really uncomfortable. Also, there was a turkey sandwich and a glass of water in the middle of the room when I woke up. I have no fucking clue how they got here, but I’m relieved for lots of reasons. First, it means someone is watching me, or at least cares if I survive or not. Also it means there is some way out of this place. Everything else in here is the same. I didn’t write this yesterday, but I banged on the walls and yelled and jumped and all that, but all sides of the box are pretty solid. The metal doesn’t ring out or shake when I hit it, like there’s concrete or something behind it. Also, there’s hardly any of that weird metallic echo in here. It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic or anything, or I’d be flipping out. It’s so quiet – impossibly quiet. No air movement. I don’t know how I can breathe so easy. Lucky the temperature is comfortable, because the floor is not. Cold sheet metal sucks.

For a while I thought maybe the food was poisoned or something, but that would be pretty retarded of them to do. The food and water don’t smell or taste weird. I guess I should be more concerned with the fact that I’m a prisoner. I saved some of the sandwich for later in case I got hungry again. It made me a little less uncomfortable to find that the turkey on the sandwich was in a generous amount. Not stingy chef in this place, but everything else is awful. I hope they leave me a radio or something next time, because it’s really really easy to get bored. I spend most of my time either writing this or singing songs I know. I bet if they left a guitar I could make the world’s greatest rock song. I’m gonna stop. Time to eat the other half of the sandwich and practice my Robert Plant voice.

Day 3

Another day, another sandwich. Haha, words to live by. Literally. Nothing happened today, but I did do a kickass job singing Stairway. Maybe tomorrow I’ll switch it up and do some Boston. Is this what solitary confinement is like?

Day 4

OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!! This “morning” when I got up and scratched my cheek I noticed someone had fucking shaved my face. And they fucking did it when I was asleep. WHAT THE FUCK!! That, of course, means, I could have been here for more than a fucking year, in a coma or whatever, and those assholes kept me groomed so I wouldn’t know. I am pissed the fuck off. So those assholes think they can trick me, eh? Well I’ll trick them right the fuck back. I’ll pretend to sleep tonight and when some dickhead comes in here with his stupid turkey sandwich, I’ll kick him right in the balls and get the fuck out of here. That way, in case they read this while I’m asleep, I’ll still be awake and they won’t get a chance. This ends tonight.

Okay, a bunch of hours have passed since I stopped writing and I’m starting to get tired, so it’s pretty much nighttime now. What I’m gonna do is rest my head on my arm like I usually do and “try” to sleep. When they come, I’m gone.

Day 5

FUCK I fell asleep!!! But I laid there perfectly still for fucking EVER and they never came. I even had my eyes closed. I bet they could tell when I was really asleep somehow, because there’s another fucking sandwich here now. I’m too disappointed and angry to eat it, but I did drink the water. I threw the glass at the other wall and it exploded into pieces. It was so nice to hear a sound that wasn’t made by me or the pencil on the paper. I’ll break every glass those FUCKS have until they let me out. God dammit, I’m so sick of this box. I wonder what people on the outside are doing. I really am a prisoner, but why? What the fuck did I do to get tossed in here? The air in here is so dead and stagnant, and I haven’t seen the sun for days. Is this some kind of torture? The sun… my sun is a bare fuking lightbulb and it’s always on. That “sun” never sets and never rises, it just sits in the middle of the ceiling.

I just had a tantrum and threw the sandwich at the wall where the shards of glass are. I feel a little better, but not enough. I’m going to sleep. Please let me wake up at home.

Day 6

New sandwich and new water glass, and no sign of the old ones. I can’t help but wonder how long I’ve really been in my box/room/prison. I say it’s day 6 but my sense of time is terrible and nothing ever changes to indicate that any time has passed. Are they trying to make me insane? Because it’s not going to work. I don’t have any weird mental imbalances. I’ve seen enough episodes of the Twilight Zone to know what happens to guys who are left alone for too long. Or that movie with Tom Hanks on an island. Shit, I’d do anything to trade places with him. More to eat than turkey sandwiches, I’d imagine, and all you’ve gotta do for a change of scenery is turn your head. Ocean here, palm trees there, and a big beautiful sky. I turn my head, I see box box box box box box. Okay, Adam, no more feeling sorry for yourself. And no more talking to myself in third person, either. Last thing I need is an excuse to catch the crazies. Even this could be worse.

I miss the sky.

I think they might be reading my notebook. They know when I sleep and when I don’t. Can they see me right now? Oh god I hate this feeling. I have been screaming at them but I don’t even know if anyone can hear me. IF YOU ARE READING THIS PLEASE LET ME GO

Day 7

I cried today. Probably from stress. I didn’t hold back, either, because who’s around to know? If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? Yes it does. I wonder if someone can see me right now. Maybe one of these walls in see-thru on one side. I mean, how else would they be able to tell if I was really asleep? I also realized that I need to start exercising so I don’t wither away. I think I’ve lost some weight but I don’t want that to continue for too long. So I ran around a bit in the box. It seems smaller when I’m standing up.

I don’t think I described the dimensions of the box, so I’ll write them here now with some guessed measurements.

Height – 8 feet
Width – 8 feet
Depth – 8 ft

I guess this box is a cube. That’s fun. I’m tired and my hand hurts.

Day 8

When I woke up, I realized there’s probably a camera or switch or something on the lightbulb. After my shitty turkey sandwich and glass of water, I’m going to check it out.

Day 9

Oh god… I broke the lightbulb yesterday. I have never seen such terrifyingly pure darkness. Darkness and silence. I accidentially cut myself on a piece of the glass, so I felt my way to a corner and cried again, this time a whole lot. I thought I would be trapped in darkness forever, and that this is what Hell must be like. I cursed myself hoarse until I fell asleep again, expecting the world to be black when I awoke. Instead, this morning I found a shiny new lightbulb in its place and my cut on my hand was bandaged. I don’t know what I would have done without another light, and I don’t want to think about it. I wrote my name, which is Adam Frederick Rowe DONT FORGET on my bandage and made a song about my experience. It goes like this:

Simple little lightbulb, you defend me from the dark
first I didn’t like you, so I banished you away
then you cut me back, I learned a lesson in the dark
you returned and now I will respect you every day

It goes to the tune of a song I don’t remember the name of, but I think it’s by some old heavy metal band. It’s not very good, but I don’t care. I don’t think anyone else will ever hear it, so if I don’t like it then no one does. I’m lucky they replaced the lightbulb, but I’m not sure I like this one very much, honestly. It’s barely noticeable, but this new lightbulb is a little brighter than the old one. I hope it gets a little dimmer. It’s too bright. Idiots, it’s too bright!

Day 10

10 days… it feels like so many more have passed. Maybe they have. I’m already sick of my lightbulb song. Sung too many times. Gotta make a new one

I am very glad there’s plenty of lead in this mechanical pencil, which was made by BiC. It’s the round stic Grip pencil with 0.7 mm lead. Or graphite. It has a green little thing that lets you attach it to stuff. Note to self: they really do spell stick as stic. i wonder why. Maybe they don’t have any k’s in their little pencil-name-printing arsenal. That would make sense, because there aren’t any k’s anywhre else on the pencil either. I’m really sick of turkey sandwiches. I wish they would give me something else to eat. I would love a cheeseburger with everything and fries. I just yelled that, maybe they will listen. Fuckin doubt it. LET ME GO

Day 11

I thought by now I would have needed a shower or a change of clothes, but I don’t. maybe they wash me when they shave me, too. That sounds really creepy and horrible, but it’s nice that they do that. I just wish they would wake me up first so I could see or touch someone else. I refuse to give names or personalities to the pencil, the notebook, the lightbulb or even the box. But maybe I should call my captors/caretakers something? Just “them” and “they” have been good so far, and I don’t know anything about them. Do they have families? Lives outside of this place? How many of them are there? Are they even human? Oh fucking christ, of course they are. Don’t go crazy now, Adam. Adam. Adam. Adam. Adam. Adam.

I wonder what I look like right now? Probably not too bad, if it’s only been 11 days. My cut is started to heal. I know because I looked under the bandage. My name is still on the bandage. Adam.

It’s been a few hours. I read over the paragraphs above and I sound like I’m getting Stockholm Syndrome. That is some bullshit. So I reminded myself that I’m here against my will and they won’t let me leave. And I did nothing wrong! NOTHING! I hope the box isn’t getting to me… I know they designed it to be the way it is – so plain and hopeless. Those lousy, heartless fucks won’t beat me. I can last in here forever. I won’t go crazy and I won’t let them get to me. Adam Adam ADAM FREDERICK ROWE

Day 12

I fucking hate turkey. Why do they give me so much of it? Assholes! I’m almost out of lead. Today I screamed until I was hoarse. I don’t know why. Fuck all of this. All I want is a cheeseburger and fresh air. My cut is totally healed already. I thought it took longer than that for wounds to heal.

Day 13

I’m sorry, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I don’t care if they feed and groom me, I HATE THEM. HATE HATE HATE HATE

I broke the glass again and scratched the hell out of the walls a little while ago. The sound of glass screeching on metal was horrible, but I continued in hopes it was hurting their ears, too. I feel better now, I little, but I have a headache. Bad one. Maybe they will give me some aspirin. They put more lead in my GOD DAMN PENCIL. It’s a sick joke.

Day 14

I’m writing late in the day today because I spent the whole day testing the walls, floor and ceiling for any indication of how to get out. No luck. No hope. can’t do this anymore. YES I CAN. God DAMMIT they will not win! Those monsters will not defeat me! They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t. They won’t.

Day 15

I’m scared and I don’t know what to do. There’s nothing I CAN do! I have to go on, but why? They’ve taken everything from me. EVERYTHING! All I have is that motherfucking lightbulb, this notebook and this stupid pencil. OH AND DON’T FORGET THE BOX! I don’t believe in God, but if I did, I wouldn’t anymore. FUCK

Day 16


Day 17


Day 18


Day 19


Day 20

What do you want from me? Do you want me to kill myself? I won’t. I WILL BEAT YOU CUNTS

Day 23

When I read my first entry, I realize what a fucking moron I am. I was doomed from the start. What a morbid thought. hahahahahaha

Day 2829

My life is over. There is no point. I never expected to die in a place like this, but I guess I really don’t have a choice. Never did. I wasted my life and now I die in a metal box.

Day 43 AND ON


I curse you FOREVER! There is no rung of HELL low enough to contain you, and so I wish, with all my heart, infinite and eternal pain without the release of death. INFINITE AND ETERNAL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? HATE

I’m so sorry. What I meant to say earlier was thank you for taking care of me while you had me in the box. Tell lightbulb I loved her even though she betrayed me. Turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey sandwiches. I’ll never eat another turkey sandwich as long as I live! And tell the pencil and notebook that I won’t be around to use them anymore, so they have to look after each other. Maybe they know now that I wrote this. I’m especially sorry to the glass. I broke her so many times. Now she’s gonna get all bloody and broken just one more time. Finally, tell the box he did a good job holding me inside. I know he’ll be happy to hear it. HA HA


oh please god im scared so much blood i take it back i dont wanna die like this please help me


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