THE PRISONER BY SHREYA CHALLA

It all started with a single episode.

A single episode didn’t seem like much, at only forty minutes- without the ads, of course. Boredom had finally crept upon me after months of quarantine, which I honestly couldn’t wait to be over with, and I had watched all the movies I had any interest in watching online, and was after something far more… sustainable. That is, I wanted to find some television show that had run for at least ten seasons so I could endlessly fry my brain in front of the television instead of actually searching for anything.

I clicked through the never-ending list of old television shows, mind still on the pasta I had had for lunch, until I saw something that mildly caught my interest: some old show about a group of friends and their adventures and drama, with- get this- twelve seasons. Sounded boring. But, I reasoned as I stretched out on the sofa like a cat, there was a
reason it was popular, and there were enough seasons to keep me entertained. Grabbing my tenth- eleventh?- packet of chips that day, I settled down among my pillows.

The first episode was done quickly, so quickly I almost felt cheated. Was that it? How many more episodes did I have to watch in order to find out who Morris’ fifth wife was, and how on earth did that affect his marriage with his seventh wife? There seemed to be no other option but to watch the next episode, and the episode and after that, and the episode after that, and…

Before I knew it, the sky outside the window was dark and the moon was up. I had spent my entire day just watching this show, and I felt strangely… empty. Not happy, exactly, or even sad, but just… numb. 

I sighed and tossed my head back, watching the ceiling fan spin around steadily. Hadn’t there been an online meeting with my colleagues today? I frowned, wondering if I had really been so engrossed in some stupid, ancient show that I had forgotten about work. Itoyed with the drawstring of my sweater, worry creeping into the crevices of my mind, but I shoved it all aside. Never mind. I’d just message them and tell them I was busy. Busy with what, goodness knew, since I couldn’t even leave the house anymore, but it would do for now, as long as I didn’t keep this up. Tomorrow I wouldn’t even turn on the
television, I vowed. I’d finish all the work I’d skipped today. It would be fine, I assured myself as I got up to find something to eat.

The next day came, and I sat perched on my sofa, laptop in front of me, working. After hardly an hour, I sighed and pushed the laptop away, massaging my forehead. Could life get any more boring? Here I was stuck in my house working, working, working. My phone buzzed as messages from my colleagues came in, but I couldn’t be bothered. What was the use? 

My eyes strayed towards the blank television. Just one episode couldn’t hurt, right? I needed a break, after all. Working continuously wasn’t good for anybody. Satisfied with my reasoning, I turned on the television to watch just one episode. Those forty minutes passed in a flash, and soon I was staring at the tantalizing, blinking ‘Next Episode’ button on the screen. Well, you only live once, I supposed, and accepted.

Needless to say, I watched more than just that one extra episode. How could I stop,
when I had finally found out who Morris’ fifth wife was- and boy, was she a firecracker and that Leia’s cafe might be shut down? Any reasonable human being with even the slightest emotional investment in these characters would continue. Could you even call yourself a real fan if you didn’t? 

For the second time, I sat in the dark, numb. My laptop had been long abandoned and my phone was going crazy with all the messages from friends, coworkers, maybe even my boss. Irritatedly, I turned it off and sat in the darkness, silent. The next day, I didn’t even question waking up on the sofa and immediately going back to which episode I had left off at. Evidently, I reasoned, I was going to come back to this show every time, so I might as well just get it over with.

So that’s what I did. Every day I would fall asleep on the sofa and wake up there and watch more episodes. Days slowly went past, but it didn’t matter to me, to the point where I did not know what my name was. I would occasionally leave the couch to get another bag of chips from the kitchen, but eventually those ran out too. Instant noodles were my saviour then; but eventually I stopped cooking them altogether. The same things were going into my stomach whether or not I cooked them; there wasn’t much of a point. Cooking was just a waste of time. The only logical conclusion was to eat the noodles raw, and since I couldn’t be bothered to make anything else to eat, it only made sense to eat the noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Why not?

Around season six, my phone stopped vibrating and calls stopped coming through. It seemed as though my colleagues and my boss had given up on me by now. No matter. At least the incessant messages wouldn’t bother me anymore, though it was probably an unsaid fact that I had been fired by now. Or maybe it was said? Maybe my boss had messaged me to tell me I was fired? Whatever. I snapped my attention back to the television screen. As long Leia’s cafe didn’t get shut down for the fifth time, it would be alright.

I had reached season thirteen when there was a vigorous knock at the door. I heard my neighbour’s voice outside. “Come out! The quarantine is over! Do you want to go get some ice cream?”

Oh. The quarantine was over. Okay. I turned back to the television to finish this last season- then I could go out in peace.

A couple of hours later, there was knocking at the door again- my neighbour. “Hey, I’m getting a little worried so now I’m coming in with the spare keys you gave me, okay?” she called. I heard the jingle of the keys as she unlocked the door and opened it with a click.

As soon as she saw me, she recoiled, hand shooting up to cover her mouth. “What are you doing? It stinks in here!” She took a hesitant step closer. “How- how long has it been since you’ve taken a bath?! I- oh my goodness! Respond to me!”

Why was she disturbing me? I was on the last episode! Just wait for another forty minutes!

“And why are you staring at a blank screen?”

A blank screen? Couldn’t she see the fight Leia and Morris were having? Couldn’t she see the pain they were in? Was she blind?

“Who- who do I call? The police? The ambulance? Any relative?” When I didn’t respond, her eyes widened and she whipped out her phone, stumbling outside to make some call, chattering at top speed.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the television screen. The screen was blank. I could see nothing in it but my own reflection.