The Void

by Christine Bernard

  The Void was an appropriate name for what we were about to experience, and as we stepped inside our new home for the next two weeks, I couldn’t help but wonder why we had decided to do this. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but this small bit of space wasn’t it. There wasn’t much to it at all, and the walls seemed to close in on us the moment we were inside. I wondered if the low ceilings were on purpose.

  “Holy shit. This is small.” Jon had a knack of saying aloud whatever I was thinking, but in a way that made me wish I had said it first. He was honest to a fault at times. No matter how often I told him there were better ways of saying the same thing, he couldn’t help himself. I hoped he hadn’t offended Larry, but he seemed completely unfazed by the comment. Jon was right, after all. This place was tiny.

  “Trust me, compared to jail, this is big,” Larry said. “Which is where most people are when they’re in solitary confinement. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. At least you have each other.”

  I glanced at Jon and smiled. He smiled back. We were definitely on the same page with this one. I was grateful we were not doing this alone.

  “There’s not much to know other than what we already discussed over the phone. There’s a camera there, and one over there,” he said as he gestured to the cameras on the wall. “There’s also one over here, which is your diary camera. I’d like you to use this whenever you want to talk to us and tell us how you’re feeling. You can use it once a day, maybe before you go to sleep, or you can speak in it whenever you want. Remember, we are interested in the constant flux of your emotions so don’t be afraid to speak into it. The only place we don’t have a camera is in the bathroom area.”

  “Thank god for that,” Jon said. “They’re called private bits for a reason.” Again, he’d spoken my truth. Again, he could do with a filter. I loved and loathed this part of his personality, depending on the situation. Larry didn’t seem to be taking much notice of him. He looked like an excited child, desperate for this whole thing to start. I guess I didn’t blame him. It would be way more fun sitting on his side of the wall.

  “Lastly, even though you’re here for two weeks, I’ve provided enough water for a month, so if you’re thirsty you can definitely have more. There is also three weeks or so of food in the freezer in case you get hungrier on some days, but you can decide how to ration that yourselves. Once I close this door, the challenge will be begin. Please remember, if you want to leave at any time, all you have to do is press the buzzer. If you press it, your time is up, but you will not have completed the challenge.” And you will not get the money. The rest of the sentence hung silently in the air.

  “There’s no clock,” Jon pointed out.

  “That’s right. You’ll be unaware of time while you’re in here.”

  I frowned. “But how will we know when our two weeks is up?”

  Larry smiled. “You won’t. When you see the door open for the first time, that’s when your time is up.” He inhaled deeply. “And that’s it, folks. Best of luck to both of you, and I hope you make the full challenge.”

  “Oh, we’ll make it,” Jon said. I smiled gratefully at him. If there was ever a time I needed his confidence, it was now.

  The door closed, and I was surprised by the silence that engulfed us.

  “Weirdo,” Jon said and the sound bounced off the walls.

  “Jon! There are cameras here,” I said and hushed him.

  He shrugged. “So what? What do you think of my cribs?” he said playfully. “How much time do you have? Let me give you the grand tour.”

  I laughed. “You are infuriating.”

  Chapter 5

  Ryan

  The first thing I noticed was the silence. I had no idea it could be so loud. The next thing I noticed was the camera, then the other, and the other. I should be used to this considering the number of videos I posted each week, but this was different. This was…I struggled to think of the word. My brain felt hazy, as if a heavy fog had fallen on me. What was this feeling? Think, dammit. I shrugged, then went to sit on the bed yet again. I’d only been in the room a few hours. At least I thought it was a few hours, and already I seemed unable to figure out the simple task of sitting or standing. I sat, then felt an incredible urge to stand again. I lived on my own, so why was this so strange? I shifted back, so that I sat flush against the wall, and gazed around the room. Larry was calling this project, The Void, and I could easily understand why. It wasn’t so much the boredom that was already getting to me, or the time confusion, but the silence. It screamed at me in a way that made me think I was going out of my mind. I had no idea silence could be so loud. I laughed, and the sound bounced off the walls. It didn’t sound like it had come from me.

  “You’ve got this,” I whispered. “You’ve got this.”

  I would be fine. I was sure of it. I merely had to get used to the strangeness, that was all. Most things took at least a day or two to seem familiar, so all I needed to do was to get through it, bit by bit. I wondered how Jon and Keri were faring. A little unfair that the two of them got to do this thing together. Then again, Jon said if I didn’t make the full two weeks, he’d give me a portion of his money, and I promised to do the same with him. So, it was nice to know we had some backup. This had been Jon’s idea, and it seemed like a good one at the time. I was the stupid one to suggest we place a rule on it, that if someone gave up, they would only get the money if they lasted at least ten days. I’d only said that so Jon didn’t give up after a day or two while I sat for two weeks alone to make us money. Maybe I’d been hasty with that rule. Considering I’d only been in here for a few hours, ten days suddenly seemed like a long time. Also, he had Keri. What did I have? I glanced around and caught sight of the small mirror by the bathroom. Myself, that’s what I had. Right now, that wasn’t comforting at all.

  I was being silly. Everything was going to be fine. It was two weeks without having to worry about work. Without having to prove myself to my parents. Without wondering what I was doing with my life, something that happened far too often these days. Two weeks. I could do this. In fact, maybe it would be fun. I got up and fetched the pack of cards I’d chosen as my one item. There’d been a list of things we could not bring, but this was something Jon had suggested. He’d assured me he was bringing one too. I climbed back on the bed and played a game of Solitaire. It didn’t take long, and I only won because I cheated. I played again, this time winning without fiddling with the cards. That’s when I realised what a stupid move this had been. A pack of cards? What was I thinking? I wracked my brain for something other than Solitaire, but the only games I could think of were two-player games. Of course Jon was going to bring a deck of cards as his item. He had Keri to play with. He had hours of games to fill his day.

  “Idiot!” I said out loud, then immediately regretted it. I glanced up at the camera, poised directly on the bed, and smiled. “I lost,” I said and shrugged even though I had just won the game. Why was I lying to the camera? I doubted this would even get shown on the show. Then again, what would get shown? It wasn’t like I was doing anything exciting. I moved the small desk, and built myself an impressively high house of cards. I looked into the camera again.

  “More like a high riser, eh?” I forced a smile. What was I doing?

  “Okay, time for something to eat. I’m starving.” Shit, I was doing it again. Who was I talking to, and why did my voice sound so weird?

  Chapter 6

  Elton

  There were three reasons why anyone would do this to themselves. Either they desperately needed the cash, they needed the attention, or they wanted to get away from the world and thought this might be a walk in the not-so-proverbial park. A holiday sounded good to me, but I didn’t want to escape. Nor did I think this would be easy. The money would be good. Hell, who was I kidding? The money would be fan-fucking-tastic. Still, it was the attention I craved. No, not craved, needed. I needed to get back into the limelight before I started fading into oblivion. I was alread
y barely recognised these days. Which was what made Jon’s reaction to me so damn enjoyable. It was the boost I needed in order to know I was doing this for all the right reasons. I was good at what I did. I was. I wasn’t too old to be in comedy anymore no matter what some people might say to me. What did they know anyway? Jon was a youngster, and he found me hilarious. Sure, he had probably seen me on some rerun, but that didn’t mean I still didn’t have it. Someone didn’t stop being funny all of a sudden. There was just a lot more competition these days. It was no longer a case of being good at what you did. The only way I was going to get ahead was to outsmart them. Like a self-published author pushing their way through an overcrowded market, the only way I would get ahead was by doing something different. I gazed around at the small pod and smiled. Now this was different. This was thinking out the box, while being in a box. I laughed at my own joke, then immediately rushed over to the diary camera as an idea for my first entry came to mind.

  “Day one, and being in here is no joke,” I started. “I’m Elton Rigby, and this is day one in the void. If this were Facebook, my status would be, ‘Elton Rigby has checked into the void’. Tag friends?” I looked around for effect then laughed. “No, Elton Rigby is very much alone. Although, with an audience of one, I’m guaranteed to get a good reaction to my jokes. Hell, I’m even going to give myself a standing ovation.” I stood up then sat back down. “Maybe this is the future of comics. Comedy for one. I’ll throw in a few bad reviews, just to make the whole thing more authentic. Elton Rigby wasn’t on form tonight. He was not interacting well with the crowd.” I peered closer into the camera and winked as I pulled back again. “Man, you’re a good-looking bunch. Right, I better get going. I’ll be back a little later with another status update. Elton Rigby has signed out of Facebook. No, scratch that. VoidBook? FacePod? Elton Rigby has signed out of PodBook.”

  I was happy with that. Keeping it Facebook related would please the younger crowd. Wouldn’t it? I’d been told that the younger people were moving away from that platform these days, but I wasn’t sure how much I believed it. PodBook. I chuckled at my joke. Hey, maybe this would catch on. A sort of social media for one. Social media for introverts. I pondered on that for a while. Something like that could really take off. It didn’t matter how it would work, that part I wasn’t sure. What mattered was that people would find this funny. This was an angle I could use for my time in here. I had come here with many great ideas, but this one had occurred to me without me even trying. That’s when I knew my comedy would do well. When things came to me without thought, they were always well received. Damn, I was good. I stood up and stretched, and felt almost as if I’d been up on stage again. I had even managed to throw in my name a good few times, which was something an old comic friend of mine had told me once when I was first starting out. A little bit of insider information that nobody thought of. The best way to stay on top of the game was all subliminal. You wanted your name to be engraved in people’s minds. Thankfully, I had a good name for that.

  Of course, Elton Rigby wasn’t my real name. Of course not. My life would’ve been different if I had been born with such a stellar name. Unfortunately, my name was not the sort of name you’d associate with a famous comedian. Not the sort of name you’d see up with flashing lights. Bob Store. Boring Bob Store! I wasn’t sure if I’d come across a name as dreary yet. Even Joe Bloggs or John Doe would’ve been better. Those placeholder names were so generic they now had a sort of coolness to them. But Bob Store? Horrible. Everything about it was bland, broad and non-specific. I’d come up with the new name at the start of my career. It was my agent who had suggested it, and I didn’t bother fighting it. My parents weren’t too happy, but I’d complained about my name heaps before to worry about offending them. They were the ones who had given me the dull name in the first place. Anyway, I’d probably done them a favour. Parental jokes featured often in my stand-up, and I doubted they would want to be associated with me after hearing some of the things I said. I had always planned on turning my name into a full-on comedy skit, but I didn’t mind forgoing it at the chance of a new name. The moment I became Elton Rigby I felt reborn. The name gave me a new lease on life, and the opportunity to be the guy I had always known I could be. The name I was destined to be. I could still remember the day I walked up on stage with my new name. It was as if a light had been switched on. I had smiled out into the audience with confidence. I had arrived.

  The name had been an easy one. “Eleanor Rigby” was my soul song, and I’d always wished I could have a name as creative as that. I’d simply changed Eleanor to Elton, only to keep the first letter the same, and probably because I’d been going through a bit of an Elton John phase at the time. I hadn’t thought about the name in a while, mostly because it felt so normal to me now. I wasn’t Bob Store acting as Elton Rigby. I was Elton Rigby. I whistled the tune now, a little mantra to keep me going. How applicable for where I was now. All the lonely people. I wasn’t lonely. I was just alone in here. There was a difference. Lonely people didn’t stand up in front of crowds. Lonely people didn’t possess an endless book of jokes in their head. I was like a walking, talking joke book, an encyclopedia of wit. And now the world would finally see what I saw in the mirror every day.

  I decided to take a shower, just to test the waters so to speak. I marked that little word twister away to use another time. The jokes were flowing faster than usual and I didn’t want to forget them. They were no use in my head. Jokes were meant to be shared. Being away from the camera would also give me an opportunity to practice my next diary take. The first one had come naturally, but I wanted to make sure the people watching would get tidbits of perfection each time I spoke into the camera. I was going to be the funniest person they had ever seen, and by the time I came out of here everyone would wonder why they had never heard of Elton Rigby before. PodBook was going to shoot me to the sort of fame I deserved. As the water cascaded over me, I practiced my speech. I’d done research before coming in. I wasn’t surprised to find that many comedians included loneliness in their gigs. It was a universal truth that everyone was lonely at some stage of their lives, so this was always guaranteed to reach someone. I’d gotten some good ideas and memorized some great one-liners. After all, dad jokes were making a comeback. With my next speech sorted, I felt ready to start my time in this pod. I walked out, singing softly to myself as I settled in. I loved “Eleanor Rigby”, and I loved The Beatles, but it was time to make my own mark on this earth. I hummed the same tune, but found some new words. I was ready for greatness.

  Elton Rigby, picks up his towel

  In the shower where he got clean.

  He’s not what he seems.

  Waits in the bedroom, wearing a shirt,

  That he picked for the pod.

  He’s a comedian god.

  Chapter 7

  Melanie

  I lay on the floor, my stomach flush against the rug and my feet swaying from side to side. I used to lie like this as child, and the simple act brought me joy. My item was a book and pen combo, which thankfully Larry had deemed suitable as one item. I made sure the book was big enough to last me the full two weeks, and by my estimation would give me twelve pages a day to play around with. I had no idea what the time was, or how long I’d been holed up in this room. I figured I was on the second day, which would make it a Wednesday. I couldn’t be sure of the time, but I decided on eleven as a rough estimate. Eleven on a Wednesday in my normal life would have me sitting at my desk, shifting my eyes from my computer to the clock repeatedly until lunch time came around. I had a game I would play with myself, where I would try not to look at the clock for a while, and then I’d guess what the new time was. I got quite good at it at the end, and I’d become attune to the sense of time. Sometimes I got it down to the exact minute. It was nice not having a clock to look at now, and to know how far removed I was from that routine. Since I worked as an accountant, it was assumed that routine was what I thrived on, and for a while I thoug
ht so too. The monotony of day-to-day living soothed me into a false sense of security. Being away from all of it completely stripped this away from me, but instead of feeling anxious, I felt relieved. I enjoyed my own company and, for the first time in ages, felt as if I could breathe. Now, instead of sitting at my desk with nothing but looming deadlines in front of me, I was lying on the floor and practicing my art, something I had not allowed myself to do in years. I used to love drawing, but it had been a long time since I’d made the time for it. I sat up and inspected my illustration. I had drawn a cat yesterday, curled up so tightly that his tail wound all the way round. I hadn’t expected to draw him again today, but there he was. Maybe this was what I’d do. I’d just keep drawing the same cat until I perfected him. I’d move on to the dog after that. In my little sketchpad I planned on all my creatures living happily side by side. Big and small. Fat and thin. Old and young. Loud and quiet. I closed the book and scribbled a name for it on the front: Together in The Void.

  Drawings done, I pulled out a piece of paper and scheduled a few activities for each day. I laughed at that. I’d just been thinking how good it was to not have routine, yet here I was about to create one again. I guess I was drawn to it, even when I actively moved away from it. The spontaneous drawing was fun, but the only way to survive this place was to have a few daily things put in place. I only knew this because I’d done some extensive research into solitary confinement, and the key to survival was simple: Keep busy. There was a fine balance between learning when to still your mind and knowing when to keep it active. I would do both, and I would walk out of this place a richer, happier person. I was sure of it. I hadn’t been sure of many things in life, but this I could do. Anyway, I would find this easy. When you’ve already been through hell, not many things in life seem bad anymore.