I couldn't remember since when I had been locked into that cellar. It was humid and dirty. There were forms hidden under grey sheets. We had daylight only coming from the small window overlooking the garden. The only presence there was that of cockroaches and dust sheep. In this old manor, the only thing you could hear were the shutters slamming and the floors creaking.

        For almost one week, footsteps sounded on the celling and cries from children filled theheavy silence. I had the hope that someone would come and save me. My wish quickly became reality . A noise of stairscreaking. It might be one of the people living there. Then, the door handle lowered and immediatly after, someone fought to open the heavy door braked by the uneven floor. When he finally managed to open it, his thin figure came to me. He could be 20 or 23 years old. Not more. He passed beside me without looking at me. He went to one of the sheets that he took away to uncover a large baroque mirror. It reflected a figure totally covered in dust. The man approached the mirrror and something near it seemed to attract him. It was a wooden leg broken a few years ago. The reason of my presence here. The stranger stumbled on it and after having a look around he noticed me. Sunddenly he came nearer and began to inspect me. He focused on my leg and after staring at me, he decided to grab me.

        After taking me to his van, we arrived in a kind of workshop in his garage. He put me down on his workplan which was very uncomfortable. A lot of tools were hanging eveywhere. Oil and paint stains decorated the walls. He began to fix me with strings. Then, he cleaned me from all angles without forgetting any. He took several nails and a hammer. He placed a nail on my leg and pinned it with the hammer. Then another and another and so on. He was hammering... more than necessary, as it gave him pleasure. The size of the nails was never right. Tirelessly, he repeated the same gesture with a larger and longer nail each time. Was his first goal to hurt me instead of healing me? Once the harm done, he put me back on my legs. He turned around me, staring at me. A smile of satisfaction on his face...

        Then, he threw me back into his truck. But there I realised I was not alone. There, darkness was king. The trip was long and unpleasant. The road was full of bends, holes and bumps. To each of them, I was constantly bumped, assaulted, and hit onto the other passengers in the truck.

        I was placed in the living room, next to the fireplace, surrounded by the other passengers from the truck. We all came to accept our condition somehow, prisoners for sure but treated with respect.

        The man I now considered as my saviour, his wife and children lived there peacefully, until one day, the couple had a very serious argument. The plates flew through the kitchen; everything that could be thrown was destroyed. When they got into the living room, the man looked around him to choose the next victim of his overwhelming anger. Many passengers from the truck got killed. Man and wife screamed and shouted louder and louder. It was crazily noisy. The man walked with killer steps. The floor was shaking. I saw my end coming. He grabbed me and tore me to pieces with a monstruous strength, then threw what was left of me into the flames.

           "Ah at last!" his wife shouted, satisfied. "I never liked this ugly broken chair anyway!!!"

Capucine, Louise and Kassy 1°L