LogFAQs > #938158992

cuttin_in_farm posted...

A man is trapped inside his own garage.

I don't know how long I've been in here. Hell, it's been so long I've forgotten why I'm in here. Did I lock myself in here or was I shoved in here and forgotten? Well, whoever did put me in here clearly wanted me alive. The mattress from my spare bedroom was dragged in here, there's an industrial size freezer that's been stocked with months of food, and a pump in the corner that's bringing clean water in from somewhere.

Every night I try to see if the doors will open. First, the garage door. Taking a wide stance, I squat down, grab the handle and strain upwards as hard as I can. But it's always weighed down by something on the other side. Next, I try the door to my mud room. I turn the knob and slam my shoulder against whatever's barricading me in, but I've never even felt it budge. I haven't heard anything from inside or outside this garage in weeks. If Maddie and the kids were inside, I would have heard by now. I have no idea where they are. The last time I cried about that was two weeks ago. For a while there wasn't a day that went by that didn't result in my face turning red hot before I threw myself into a sobbing pile on the secondhand mattress. Eventually I realized if I'm going to make it through this, I gotta stay mentally strong.

"You are not doing that. You have never done that."

If I bawl my eyes out every day I'm going to go insane. I started to look for a silver lining. Wherever they are, they're probably all together. The car's not in the garage, maybe they have it. And hopefully are on their way back to me.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

It definitely gets boring in here day after day, but I have a few ways to pass the time. There's an old CRT television in here with a DVD player and a PlayStation 2 hooked up to it. There's stack of books on a shelf by my bed.
"And how many books have you read in the months you've been in here?"
Oh my God, what is your problem?
"What's my problem? What's your problem? Acting like a Youtube influencer or some shit. 'Hello everybody, welcome back to my solitude. Here are all the books I definitely read. Check out how strong my mental health is.' It's bullshit and you know it."
I'm not even doing anything. Can you just fucking chill for a second?
"Exactly. You never do anything."
What do you want me to do? I'm literally locked in here.
"How about a push up? How about reading a book? How about any form of self-improvement? You've probably played like a thousand games of MVP Baseball 2005 since you've been in here. How many times have you watched through all of Scrubs?"
I don't get why you always tear into me like this. Scrubs is a great show. You treat me like I'm some kind of monster, but I'm not a bad guy.
"And I don't get why you're hanging your hat on not being a bad guy like it's something that deserves to be celebrated. Not being a bad guy doesn't mean you're a good guy. Why don't you open up the freezer if you want to show everyone what kind of guy you are."
Being locked in here is stressful. I'm coping with it the best that I can.
"Look at the trash corner. Show 'em."
I'm not gonna look at the trash corner.
"Fine, have it your way. But until you do, I'm gonna do this. JeReMY sPoKe In ClAaAaSs ToDaAaAaY EH EH EH EH EH EH-"

I walk over to the industrial freezer and rip the door open. One side is nearly empty. There's half a bag of Tyson chicken nuggets. A couple boxes of Hot Pockets.The left side is basically a comfort food section. Nobody makes it through isolation without eating some garbage and a microwave is all I have in here to cook anything.
"Mmhmm. What about the right side though?"
The right side is essentially untouched. It's stuffed with frozen vegetables, meals like mushroom green bean risotto, and bags of fruit.
"Now look at the trash corner."
The trash corner is a mountain of left side boxes. Hot Pockets, pizza rolls, bagel bites - basically anything that has bread, sauce, and cheese or is some kind of breaded chicken.
"You've done nothing in here but eat junk food and play video games and you have the audacity to cry that you don't know where your wife is. How many married guys do you know that haven't eaten a vegetable in a month?"
I don't know, dude. Okay? Am I only allowed to be sad if I do 500 squats and eat a bag of brussel sprouts? I CAN'T GET OUT OF HERE. It's stressful.
"Yeah yeah, you've already said that. And what was so stressful about your life before all of this?"
What are you trying to say?
"This isn't exactly new behavior, is it? Sure, you'd eat vegetables that Maddie cooked for you, but when left to your own devices you'd pretty much revert to your current eating habits. You never learned to cook very well and working with fresh vegetables 'intimidated' you. Like boiling corn on the cob was on par with fighting a wolf. Remember the spaghetti squash?"

I bought a spaghetti squash before this all started. I remember my dad used to cook it for us all the time when I was a kid. I loved the stringy, garlicky, buttery goodness and wanted to share it with Maddie and the kids. I never knew how to make it, but when I bought it I was determined to learn. I was so pleased with myself that I celebrated buying the squash with a six pack of a fancy craft beer. I put it on the counter by the coffee pot so I'd see it every day, you know? Maddie would ask if I wanted to make it tonight, and I'd always push it off. Eventually it went bad. By the time I threw it away, I... uh...
"You never even asked your dad for the recipe."
No. Maddie was disappointed.
"She was disgusted. She watched the father of her children slam six beers because he bought a vegetable he let spoil. And now all you have to do to eat a vegetable is press a button on the microwave, and you still can't do it. Have you ever wondered why you play that fifteen year old video game so much?"
It's nostalgic for me.
"Nostalgic for a time when you had zero responsibilities? Maybe. It's also because you're good at it. You can win pretty much every game with little effort. It's not challenging. That's why you marathon DVDs instead of reading a book. And it's why there's no way in hell Maddie's coming back."

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.