The air inside the wooden tomb became
thicker as the daylight grew stronger. All the day before and all that night,
the door had remained locked. No longer did the prisoner scrap at the cracks in
the wooden panels with her fingernails; there were hardly any nails left now
anyway, just bloodied stumps, splintered and sore. Parched lips trembled feebly
in a repeated prayer, silently mouthed over and over. If there was anyone
listening, they weren't about to grant the inmate's wish. No one was coming to
help. And no one was going to let it end.
Footsteps.
Panic gave the weak captive a tiny burst of energy and she opened her terrified
eyes. No more! No more!
The
light cutting into the dank prison was suddenly blocked off. Through the cracks
in the door a dark shadow could be seen. Grating and creaking followed. The
prisoner made herself as small as she could, huddling in the furthest corner of
the tiny cell, but it was nowhere near far enough. Oh, what she wouldn't give
to be far away from here. But it was her fault. It was all her own fault. If
only she...
The
door groaned deeply as it swung open to reveal the massive dark figure towering
over the captive like a judge, jury, and
the executioner. Large leather strap in one hand, with the other covering his
nose, the large man stared down on the girl before him with disgust and hatred.
“Get
out,” he commanded, his voice muffled by the hand defending his nostrils from
the foul smell.
He
stepped back a few paces and waiting impatiently for the girl to move. But she
couldn't find the strength to crawl forward, collapsing in a heap on the prison
floor instead.
“I
said, get out!”
A
heavy foot came down upon her, thrusting her face first into the foul slush
which covered the floor of the wooden cell. Some splashed up onto the trouser
leg of the angry man, causing an outburst of curses directed at the girl. He
bent down and grabbed a fistful of her lank, dirty, tangled mop of hair,
yanking her out of the chamber with a force that lifted her clean off the
floor. She was dumped on the grass with a thud, rolling over onto her side in
pain, knees pulled in close to her chest and her head tucked in. She made
little sound as the large man spat on her, wiping the hand that had touched her
on the seat of his trousers, his face distorted with disgust.
“Ya
fool thing,” he yelled at her as he wrapped the belt around his hand. “Don't
know why I ev'r agreed to take care of ya, aye.”
But
his words seemed strange and far off, as if the girl was underwater. The ground
seemed to be moving, spinning almost, beneath her, and coloured spots were
dancing before her eyes, even when shut. She began to retch, shaking from head
to toe. She was going to die, she knew it. The young girl, empty and broken,
had nothing more to give, no fight left in her aching body. As her retching
stopped at last, she forced her eyes open, wanting to see the sun one more time
before letting go of this world. A giant figure stood before her, not the evil
man with the belt, but someone else. His long blonde hair fell over his
shoulders, strangely braided with bright colours, and the sun he shielded her
from created a halo around him. An angel, she thought wearily, come to take me
away from this life at last. And with that, her small world collapsed in on
itself, leaving her to be engulfed by the darkness.
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