White

The sound of the electric shaver filled the room as it ran through the dark brown hair sending it floating down to the floor. “Click” the switch of the shave flicked off. Staring into the mirror was now a bald man; rubbing his hand across his clean head he felt the roughness of what was his hair. Looking down, hair scared across the floor just like his life, one big mess.

Walking to the door a loud buzzing sound rang in the man’s ears as the door slid open. Slowly lifting each leg the man walked down the corridor all the walls where white, there were no windows, just the blinding lights hanging from the ceiling. His eyes glanced up staring into the camera that followed his every step. Another buzz filled the room as the white painted steal door rolled open.

“Clink, clink, clink...” his feet shuffled into the room. Inside this small white room sat a chair with a jumpsuit laying over it. “Crack… Mr. Jones this will be your new work outfit.” Flickered the intercom as Jones heard a clicking sound. Looking into the mirror he knew it was a one way looking glass; he stared a deep soulless stare into the mirror. “Mr. Jones you have three minutes” the intercom cracked.

Slowly removing his clothing, placing it on the chair in a neat pile, Jones stopped once he had stripped to his underwear. His eyes glazed into the mirror lost in thought, “Mr. Jones” spitted the voice over the intercom. Jones picked up the jump suit holding it in front of him. He lifted his left leg sticking it through having it pop out the hole on the other side and repeated the same with his right leg. Slipping his hand into the sleeves he already felt the heat from the suit. His hand slowly fumbled with the zipper as his legs shook. “Ziiiiiiiiip…” went the zipper as it reached up to his neck. Looking in the mirror Jones fixed his color. Sitting under the chair was a pair of black boots that Jones tied onto his feet.

“Buzz” the white door slid open with two men standing behind it, Jones looked at them as he walked out of the room. One stood in front of Jones, which he followed while the other stood behind him. Walking down an endless maze of white halls they reached a small opening, a steal white door stood in front of him once again. Next to the door was a small metal desk as white as the walls, on top of the desk sat a computer screen with a man glossy eyes staring deeply into it.

“Number?” the man behind the desk mumbled out of his mouth never looking up from the computer. “580216” said the man standing in front of Jones. Finger clicked on a keyboard quickly as the man behind the desk said, “All clear” buzzing the door open. Passing through the doorway Jones entered his new life.

The room was as white as all the others, it was a large room the normal size for a house, looking up Jones could see at lest 20 floors. Jones and the men kept walking reaching an elevator; taking the card hanging by one of the men’s waist they slid it though. “Ding” went the doors as they slowly slid open having the three enter.

Inside the elevator everything was still white besides the buttons sitting next to the door they glowed with black numbers labeled on them going up to 25. One of the men’s fingers taped on the number 18. The elevator shifted upwards creating a low hum sound filling the air. After about a minute the doors slid open again.

Jones got back in the line again as the walked down the corridor. To his left was a metal frame with glass placed in it, looking down he could glance down into the corridor of the other floors and at the bottom sat the huge room he was in. To his right where steal white doors on each of them sat a small window, peering into them Jones saw men just like him, same bald head same suit and boots and even the same look on their faces.

The man in front of Jones stopped in front of one of the small door under the window sat a small label saying “826” the mans card slide into the door, “Click” the lock went as he pulled open the door. Jones walked into the room. Everything was glowing white, the small bed placed on the wall to the little toilet sitting in the corner. The door clicked again becoming locked.

Jones walked over to his bed, sitting down, his head sagged his mind went back into memories. He was now sitting in a court room, his eyes stared dead into space, his face mad no emotions, and he just sat there like an unused puppet. The Judge placed high in his seat started to speak. “Mr. Robert Jones you have been found guilty of the murder of Mrs. Janet Jones your wife and Miss. Jessica Jones your daughter.” The room’s eyes locked onto him giving him an evil glare. His mind flashed he was now standing in a living room, his own living room. Lying in front of him was his wife and daughter, knifes laid in their stomach blood flowing out, their head’s sat destroyed on the floor with a bullet holes placed in each foreheads. Blood covered the walks sprayed across the family picture of the three of them. The carpet use to be a blue color but now became crimson as it soaked in the blood. Jones’s eyes still stared that lifeless stare like his soul had been stolen.

“Click” the lock went as it sung open. In the entrance stood a guard Jones looked at him and stood up. Slowly walking forward the guard moved from the door way as Jones legs started to move faster, now running Jones flew out the door slamming his body into the glass panel across the hall shattering it. His body slowly fell, Jones looked into the ground with his lifeless stare. The loudspeakers started up yelling “Code 8” over and over. Jones hit the ground 18 floor below him, head first. His skull smashed opened as his brain oozed out. Arms and legs snapped with bone piercing out of the skin. Jones little jump suit became covered in blood. The white room was now tinted a shade of red.

If Jones face was still put together people would be able to see his face was filled with joy at the last moment his face smashed into the white tile. Jones didn’t know how to live after his wife and daughter was killed, he became a drone. He was even conflicted of their deaths. Now he was free, free in his death.