Trapped

The room had soft, off-white padded walls. The floor was bland, with black and white checker tiles in a checkered pattern. It was more obvious than it should have been that this room had been used many times before. Not that the room looked worn, it actually look pristine, a sign that the padding and tiles had been recently replaced. In the corner of the room was a simple cot that no one could think would be comfortable. There were no windows except the one on the door, which was shatterproof. The door was steel and, like the walls, was covered with the same off-white padding on the inside of the room. There was a single flourescent light on the ceiling, surrounded by a wire mesh to keep anybody from shattering the bulb. Every few minutes, the bulb would flicker as if the power was about to go out. The walls weren't as thick as an observer would think they were and anybody unlucky enough to inhabit the cell would be able to hear the mumbles and screams of the occupants in the neighboring rooms.