Awake - Book One of the Spinner's Curse

Chapter Nine: Battered and Broken

                           Chapter Nine:

                     Battered and Broken

　

 

I can’t breathe...........I can’t see.............All is dark. My head is fuzzy. Everything is black. My wrists are tied behind my back. Hurting. So much hurt............Pain........I can’t breathe. My nose is broken, a rib cracked..........I can't breathe..............I can't breathe..............

 

          A cold splash of water woke me. I was curled in a ball on a hard stone floor. My wrists were tied behind me. I gasped, trying to breathe in to escape the water invading my mouth. I couldn't breathe through my nose. I wasn't sure, but it seemed to be caked in blood. The water washed it into my mouth. I spluttered, but still the metallic taste of it was there, sealed into my memory.

           I struggled to right myself, to sit up. My sides hurt. I looked down. My clothes were crusty with blood in spots, wet, and soggy in others. I shook my head, trying to clear it. Beside me someone laughed. It was so foreign amid the pain. I turned towards it.

         Sturdy iron bars separated me from the laughing man. His laugh was high, like a girl, as mine would have been if I could have summoned it, but he was not little. He was fat, and he watched me through his piggy eyes. I recognized him. He was the man I had sold my horse to, so long ago.

         I blinked, willing my eyes to take me far away. Away from this tiny cell, from the darkness that surrounded me, broken only by the candle this man held. He laughed again. This time he was not laughing at me. He was laughing at a man who stood behind him. A man I had not noticed, he stood so far from the light of the flame. I squinted. His face was familiar.

         Spark. I wretched; spilling my insides onto the floor. The Pig-man backed away from me, clutching his nose. He said something to Spark but I was not listening. I turned, behind me there was a small, thin mattress in the corner. I wiggled towards it and away from their laughter, away from the light. I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep. It came.

*         Hours later my body tried to focus on the world around me again. It dragged me back, screaming for attention. I wanted to ignore it. Pretend that the pain in my side and my nose were not real. They were only a dream. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to close them against the pain. Except there, lurking in the darkness was the Image. The scene the pain had temporarily shielded from my mind.

          I sat up, noticing with wonder that my wrists were unbound. I brought them forward and hissed at the red bands around them. I was afraid to touch my nose. Knowing that when I did I would be shocked at how bad it was. My fingers were filthy. I remembered I had been clean when we had left. I had wanted to look as nice as possible for our escapade.

           I shrank back. Even the memory of the time before was too painful, too tender. Instead, I focused on my surroundings. It was lighter now. There was a small window in my room, in the corner. In truth, it was only where a brick had come loose and fallen to the floor, but through it, I could see the sky, a sky thick with clouds. I shivered. Winter was coming.

           I realized that I was cold. My cell was cold. I went back to the mattress. It was so thin it could be a blanket. I grabbed a corner, testing it to see if I could use it as one. It was stiff and hard, as if made from wood instead of padding. I sat on it and waited, huddled like a dog. I refused to whimper. I did not want them to know I was awake.