Synthetic, meaning created by man to imitate something natural. Light, is something that stimulates the eye to make something visible. Synthetic light, by definition, is man creating false light in order to make something visible. Does that mean what is presented to us by man is false by nature? It was often a perplexing contradiction of meaning, a paradox which I have circle my mind as often as possible till I have the answer. All I see is synthetic lights now.
Light is used in many ways to reveal the truth. To see what cannot be seen in the dark. It's why lights were directed towards the suspect in an interrogation. Not only does it allow the interrogator to observe twitches or hints of lies better, but it also has a psychological effect on the suspect. With so much light shed upon a suspect and unable to see people in the darkness, their guilt begins to flood out of them.
Some would say it was almost a biblical effect, but I believe it is more like the deer-caught-in-the-headlights effect. The suspect feels the fast approaching truck behind the lights and in their last moments they want reprieve, of course not entirely, but subconsciously they feel threatened. Makes sense after all, they are being assaulted verbally as well as visually.
At least that is how I felt sitting in that terrible room. The walls were covered in sinister, red lights. Like the eyes of an evil creature staring at me in the darkness. Sitting in that chair was nerve racking, but I knew I could ease the stress by closing my eyes. With one more glance around the room I grew increasingly nervous. These lights seemed to burn their way into my head through my eyelids. It was piercing like bright, burning blades. So I closed my eyes tighter and sought the escape I so desperately needed in my crumbling mind.
The darkness seemed welcoming. A relief from the burning lights that surrounded me. I used to imagine myself in a different place. Imagine myself in my apartment, or at work...but now all I imagined was the inside of my eyelids. I could ease myself in the pitch black. As if something beyond the synthetic lights saw me escape, a voice echoed in the room.
"Where were you that night?" The voice asked, but it felt like an order.
What the lights did to my eyes the voice did to my ears. It was like this for too long of a time, my answer was always the same, so why keep asking me? Did they know something I didn't? These were the first paranoid questions that popped into my mind the first day I was thrown in here, but now, I couldn't care less what happened to me, I wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear.
"I was at home," I replied.
"What were you doing?"
I knew I was, but how did the voice know? Was it in my head? No, stop, I couldn't let the questions keep coming back. Keep your eyes closed, try not not move anymore or less than you have been moving. It's how they know you're lying when you twitch, when you stutter when you falter in anyway that is different from when you tell the truth.
"Where were you that night?" The voice repeated.
This time I did not answer. Instead I opened my eyes and stood up. The lights intensity seemed to increase with every movement I made. I made for the door. It was difficult to see at first, because there were lights on it as well. However, the door wasn't seamless and I noticed the cracks around it. I knew my actions were not appreciated on the other side of the walls, but quite frankly I have been through a lot and I wouldn't stay still for them.
"Sit down," The voice ordered.
"I answered all your questions and I don't intend to repeat myself," I said in barely a whisper. "Even though that is exactly what I've been doing for days now."
I reached forward and clutched the hidden door handle. I tugged the handle, but as always it wouldn't budge. I felt that burning feeling inside of me as I grew more impatient. I wanted out of here, I wanted to go home.
"You cannot leave till you answer truthfully," the voice replied.
I was getting angrier. With the meat of my hands and sole of my boot I began smashing lights. After a few shocks running through my arms I settled with just using my feet. I felt a unique kind of relief from breaking these pointless lights.
"I'm not lying, so save yourself some money and let me out!" I yelled.
Glass shattered, sparks flew and the voice was drowned out by the ensuing destruction. Soon I had accomplished my goal. All that was left in the room was me and the darkness. Somehow in the dark I felt safer and more sure of myself. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and closed my eyes. For a few moments I enjoyed the silence and the serenity.
"I am going home, you know I'm going home," I muttered. "I am leaving here today, I am leaving here NOW!"
An alarm blared.
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I was lying in my comforting bed as the alarm clock beside me vibrated from the noise it was making. I ignored it for as long as I could, but gave in. I reached for it, clutching it in both hands and threw it through the open window. It hit something hard outside and smashed, silencing the alarm. The moment the alarm was destroyed I rested against the cool pillows.
The lights flicked on, sending the pain of a thousand wounds through me like acid replacing my blood.
"Wake up! You need to catch the bus to get to work!"
The voice faded and I sighed. I'm getting sick of this.
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