Day 24 in the Big Brother House, 8.35am.
After
successfully completing the circus challenge last night, Big Brother is
awarding the remaining housemates a celebration basket of beer, wine, and
snacks, to be delivered later in the day. Zoe, Shane, Clare and Ann are
sleeping. The only housemate up, is Kit, who is doing sit-ups in the living
area.
Kit
concentrated on getting through the last of his hundred sit-ups. It was hard to
believe he’d only been inside this place for four weeks; it felt like four
years. All around him, the house was silent, except for barely audible whir of
focusing camera lenses, as they followed his movements. He bunched his
well-chiselled stomach muscles one more time, and wondered, how many women out
there were ogling him? Thousands? Tens of thousands? All gagging for a taste of
the Kittster, while he was forced to remain blue balled, and captive.
It
was a hell of a price to pay, all so he could be famous. He thought he would
have been fine, going without sex, but by day ten, he was gagging for a bit. He
couldn't even indulge in a little, "five finger shuffle", for God
sake. He'd tried to knock out a sneaky one under the duvet, but every time the
material rustled, he imagined his mother watching, live, on high definition TV.
Let's just say, things withered.
It
didn't help having Zoe, and Clare, around. Zoe would look right at home
rollerblading down Venice Beach, in a string bikini. And, she insisted on
constantly doing yoga. That's enough temptation for anyone, but add in Clare,
and the situation rose to volcanic temperatures. Clare was a lesbian, and her
eyes devoured Zoe every minute of the day. Imagining the thoughts going through
that girl’s mind was worse than a death by a thousand cuts. The frustration of
it all.
Kit
was a professional surfer, just not a very good one. His body was perfect; with
shoulder-length blond hair and a posh English accent drove the girls wild,
particularly Americans. He'd always wanted to be famous, to have all the
trappings that went with it, he just lacked the skill to deserve it. God bless
reality TV, which offered fame for the sake of fame. When he’d auditioned for
the Big Brother, he didn’t think he had a real shot of being chosen. But when the
producers announced he was one of the fourteen housemates, it had been a dream
come true. How things have changed.
Now,
he hated the plush walls that surrounded him, and the sexy female voice of Big
Brother. He hated the stupid games they made them play for the amusement of the
mindless masses, and he hated the boredom. He wished he could paddle out into a
rising Atlantic swell, until he could see nothing but ocean, wave, and sky.
He
strained through one last sit-up and collapsed backward. He was getting soft.
He heard a camera move as it focused on him. He felt the waterproof microphone tickle
his sweat-soaked skin, and reminded himself; one week to go. He got to his feet,
and towelled off, before going to brew some coffee.
The
smell of roasted Java, wafting through the house, soon roused the rest of the
gang. So began another day, of doing nothing, talking shit, and waiting for the
public to vote one of them out.
Day
24 in the Big Brother House, 10.20pm.
Big
Brother's sexy voice reverberated through the house. "The diary room
is now, open."
Zoe
dashed to the flashing door, giggling like a schoolgirl, and Clare was quick to
follow. When the girls returned, they carried between them a weighty looking
case, decorated like a pirate’s treasure chest. When they flipped it open,
there was a feast of alcoholic delights, and salt-laden snacks. The party that
followed went on well into the night, and finished with all of the housemates
in the hot-tub, roaring drunk.
Day
25 in the Big Brother House, 11.54am
Shane
was the first to wake from his vodka induced coma. The communal dorm smelled of
beer farts and Ann was snoring noisily. He struggled out of bed and staggered
to the bathroom. He peed, then washed, and decided to wake Kit.
"Kit,"
he said, shaking a duvet covered shoulder. "Kit, come on man. It’s time to
get up."
"Fuck
off," he said, but the words were muffled by the duvet. Shane persisted
until Kit finally admitted defeat and threw back the covers.
"Alright,
I'm up, I'm up," he said, groggily.
"I
bet that party made the front page of the Mirror," said Shane, with a grin.
Kit
rested an arm over his eyes and tried to put the pieces of last night together.
He remembered touching Zoe's boob in the hot-tub, and she didn't seem to mind
one bit. Later, the two of them had ended up in his bed but then the shit hit
the fan. Clare went nuclear, and tried to drag Zoe out of bed. Zoe told Clare
to, "get a life," which resulted in shouting, and Clare storming off in
tears. Zoe followed Clare, (the stupid cow), and Ann followed both of them,
relishing the role of peacemaker. When all the girls came back, they quickly
ended up in their own beds, while he was left with a raging hard-on, and
nothing to do with it.
He
swung his feet out of bed and reassured himself quietly, "One more week."
The
house looked like it had been burgled. Furniture was upended, bottles were
strewn everywhere, and in the corner was a small puddle of puke that nobody was
going to take responsibility for. He needed coffee before tackling that lot.
What difference would another half hour make? After all, they were hardly
expecting visitors.
Day
25 in the Big Brother House, 3.34pm.
All
the housemates are congregated in the sitting area, relaxing after
the party clean-up.
"Guy's,
did you notice that?" asked Ann.
"Notice
what?" said a grumpy Clare.
"That
camera hasn't moved in an hour," she said, pointing to a unit mounted
above one of the many one-way mirrors dotted around the house.
"Rubbish,
you just didn't see it, is all," said Clare, burying her head under a pile
of cushions, her hangover was still in full roar.
"I'm
telling you; it hasn't moved!" Ann insisted.
With
nothing else to do, everyone watched the camera, and after fifteen minutes, Kit
had to concede, it hadn't moved.
"Perhaps
it's broken," he said.
"It
could be," agreed Zoe. "But then, why hasn't that one moved
either?" she asked, indicating a different camera, one in the far corner
of the room. One by one, the housemates got to their feet and started walking
around. Any other time, this would have caused every camera in the place to
spring into whirring motion. Today, nothing happened. Not one camera moved.
"That's
bloody weird," said Clare, coming back from the garden. "It's the
same outside."
"I
think I should report it to Big Brother," said Ann, always the golden
girl. She jogged to the diary room door and pressed the button. It flashed and
kept on flashing, but the door didn't open. After a few minutes, she began to
call out to Big Brother.
"Big
Brother, there's something wrong with the cameras," she said, to the roof,
as if she were talking to God. "Big Brother, can you hear me?"
This went on for quite some time, while all the rest of the them sat on the
sofa, and watched. At no point did any of the cameras move, nor did Big Brother
decide to answer Ann’s bleating.
Day
26 in the Big Brother House, 5.07pm
Shane
came back into the kitchen, after trying the diary door for the hundredth time.
"Any
change?" asked Kit.
"Still
locked," he said, dumping the last of the coffee into his mug. They'd received
no fresh supplies since the alcohol chest and things were starting to run out.
Clare had used the last of the bread, and no sign of the, "pantry fairies."
"There
is no way this could be a challenge; could it?" he asked, looking to the
older man for leadership. Shane might be five years older than Kit, but he was
just as lost.
"It
could be, I guess, but it's a fairly extreme measure, don't you think?" he
said, sipping his coffee.
"Those
knob-heads would sell their grannies, for a good rating. They'd think nothing
of starving us, or scaring the crap out of us!" said Kit, staring at one
of the one-way mirrors.
"I
guess it is an interesting experiment," he mused, but Kit exploded.
"Fucking
Experiment is right! They think we’re rats in a maze, but we’re not. You know
what they’re doing? They’re playing with our lives is what!" he ranted,
knowing he was letting the frustration of captivity overwhelm him, but it felt
so good.
"Ah
come on, it's hardly that bad. We only ran out of bread this morning; we're not
exactly starving."
"No,
not yet, but how far will those wankers go?" he shouted.
The girls had been in the garden, chatting, but the sound of raised voices got
them back into the house.
"What's
happening," asked Zoe, simultaneously excited and anxious.
"Bloody
nothing!" said Kit, storming out of the kitchen and into the bedroom,
slamming the door behind him.
Day
27 in the Big Brother House, 11.34pm.
Zoe,
Ann, Clare and Shane are on the couch, watching Kit trying to force open the
diary room door, with an egg turner.
"You're
wasting your time," said Clare, rubbing her GI-Jane haircut.
"But
at least I’m doing something. What have you done?" he asked, throwing the
spatula across the room, hitting one of the one-way mirrors and cracking the
glass.
"I
haven't panicked, that's what I've done," she said, her tone superior, as
she lay back like King Tut. She draped her arm across the back of the couch,
and if she moved it forward an inch, it would also be draped around Zoe's neck.
"I'm
not panicking, I'm bloody starving!" he growled, throwing himself into one
of the bean-bags.
"It’s
bound to be a game. Big Brother will call an end to it soon," added Ann, her
voice full of trust and innocence. He looked across at her and couldn’t believe
she was being sincere. Nobody was that goody-goody.
"And
what if they don't? When will we start to act for yourselves? Can't you see
that something is wrong here? This is not the way the show should be going. If
nothing else, why haven't two of us been evicted? Tell me that?"
The
problem was, none of them had an answer to his question, not even himself.
Day
28 in the Big Brother House, 9.45am.
Zoe
and Kit are sitting in the garden, Ann is in the bathroom, while Clare and
Shane are cooking the last of the housemate’s rice, for breakfast.
"Can
you smell that?" asked Kit.
"It
smells like smoke, but more disgusting?" said Zoe.
"Yea,
have you ever smelled anything like that before?"
"No,"
she said, watching him get to his feet. It was like burnt hair and rubber. He
looked into the sky, shielding his eyes with his hands.
"I
think I can see something over there,” he said, pointing at the south wall of
the compound. They walked across the yard and when they reached the wall, he
linked his hands into a stirrup and hunkered down.
"I'll
give you a boost," he said. "See if you can grab the top of the wall."
Zoe put her foot in his hands and he hoisted her up. She came up a long way
short. He wasn’t bet yet. “Wait here,” he said, and dashed away. A few minutes
later he returned, with Shane, and the couch. They tipped it on its end so it
formed a ramp of sorts. They helped Zoe clamber up and this time when she
jumped, she managed to wrap her fingers around the top of the wall.
Kit
and Shane cheered, but Zoe screamed.
She
crashed to the ground, blood flying everywhere. Her fingers were sliced open in
several places. As they hurried inside to bandage Zoe’s cuts, the smell grew
stronger. Kit couldn’t help wonder had the wire been put there to keep other
out, or them in?
Day
29 in the Big Brother House, 11.35pm
All of the housemates are gathered in the living-area.
Throughout the day, the stinking black smoke had grown thicker and
thicker. While Ann continued to plead with Big Brother, the rest of us sat in
the hot-tub and watched the sky grow blacker. Kit felt like Nero, fiddling
while London burned.
"What do you think they're burning? he asked, laying his head back
in the luxurious bubbling water.
"Could
be rubbish, I guess," said Clare. "But whatever it is, it
stinks."
"I'd
love a burger," said Zoe. The seeming random comment, not so random at
all. The thought of food was now all consuming. They’d passed from hungry to
starving days ago.
"Burger
King or McD?" asked Clare, continuing to torture us all.
"Burger King, of course. Double Whopper! Heaven!" cried Shane,
sinking below the water in mock ecstasy.
Inside
the house, Ann's voice rose to a ferocious level. "FUCK YOU, BIG BROTHER!"
followed by the sound of smashing the glass. As one, they sprang from the tub
and raced toward the house. They found Ann, in front of a smashed one-way
mirror, holding a chair in her hands.
They
were shocked into stillness. Nobody believed Ann would be the one to break the
golden rule; thou shall not escape. Kit moved forward, picking his way through
the shattered glass littering the floor. He poked his head inside the tiny room
behind the shattered mirror. There was an upturned chair, dozens of pieces of
paper, and an unattended TV camera. On the back wall, a black door beckoned
him, like a gateway to salvation. He climbed inside and took the doorknob. The
handle turned, but the door was locked. He rattled it and pulled with all his
might. It wouldn’t budge. He turned around and saw the hangered faces of his
housemates, framed in broken glass. It would have made a great horror movie
poster. After so long of doing nothing, it was completely disheartening to have
breached the barriers of Big Brother's world, only to be stopped in their
tracks by a simple door.
Ann dropped the chair and began to wail uncontrollably. It made everyone jump.
"I'm
sorry Big Brother, it was an accident. It was an accident!" she screamed,
sinking to her knees.
"Stop it, Ann," said Clare, taking her in her arms.
"NO!
NO! NO! I shouldn't have done it!" she screamed. Clare lead her away from
the broken glass and lay her on the couch. The others simply wandered away. Kit
was about to climb out of the room when he spotted a crumpled newspaper under
the upturned chair. He picked it up and the headline hit him like a hammer blow.
"Guy's, I think you should look at this," he said, shakily climbing
back into the house. He held up the paper with the headline facing them.
"DOOMSDAY!" it declared. The lead picture was of a
body lying in a doorway. A plague! While they had been locked up in here, it
had swept planet, killing millions. The story detailed; civil unrest, the fall
of governments, marshal law, and mass cremations. They read the story a dozen
times. Trying to digest it all. What about their friends, their families? Kit looked
back into the camera room. It was obvious the crew had abandoned them and left
them locked inside. The question was, had they saved them, or doomed them? What
lay beyond the door? Salvation, or destruction?
