A Game of Colours

Chapter 23: Oh, Marianna

I close my eyes angrily and roll over. The door opens a few seconds later, and Jarrah comes in tiredly. He doesn't see me, so he must think I'm asleep. I try and fight back my tears.

I watch him nestle into a bag of hay beside me.

"I've really screwed this up, haven't I?" he whispers, and I freeze. He knows I'm awake?

I'm about to respond with a sarcastic quip, when he sighs and turns away from me.

I realize he's talking to himself, and stay quiet. I lie there, taking in everything I've heard tonight and realizing there's no chance I'll be able to sleep. A few moments later, Jarrah's breaths become harsh and he too falls asleep beside me.

Can I even trust him anymore? Do I even know who he is? Just hours ago, I believed he was genuinely trying to help me.

Now? I think it's been me helping him all along. Maybe everything was an act. I think about what Marian said to him.

"You're just usin' em to get out of 'ere. It's not them yer freein', it's you." 

The more I think about it, the more I believe it's true. Why would he help some random slave girl anyway when she sprained her ankle? He didn't need to care, so why did he? He probably had a reason for it; was already thinking of how to escape and just covering his bases.

What about the canvas in his room? Why would he paint you? My subconscious argues with me.

That could've been anyone, I retort, I just liked him and wanted to see myself there. Could've been Marian for all I know. 

That's not true and you know it, my subconscious says.

I don't know what's true anymore, okay? All I know is I'm talking to myself because there's no one else who's got a clue how I feel! I don't even know who Marian is and what she knows about Jarrah, but something clearly happened between them.

Why don't you ask her? Now's your chance to get some answers.

She wouldn't tell me anything. I'm just a slave in her eyes that she's harbouring because Jarrah begged her to. 

 I decide to go for a walk outside to clear my head. Carefully, I slip outside the doors of the storage room, careful not to squeak them and wake anyone up. I step into the cool night air, greeted by a clear autumn night above me.

The stars have always been there. They're the only constant thing in my life. Each time I look up, thousands of shining lights dance across the sky, singing a song of their own and enjoying the view from above. The full moon glows brightly; asserting its dominion over all the diamonds that surround it. It illuminates the night, giving off its own kind of beauty that most people, asleep in their beds, never see. The light falls upon the forest, almost making it glow. There is a slight breeze, caressing my cheeks and uplifting the tangles of my hair. Not a cloud lies in sight, none daring to obstruct the mighty velvety painting that I gaze upon.  I have always preferred the night. While it frightens some people, for me it is a comfort that when I leave this Earth, there will be something more beautiful beyond, waiting with outstretched arms to welcome me to a new adventure. 

I hear yelling from the inn, and the breaking of dishes. A plate smashes against the floor, and a man yells, "Oh fer the love of the Lord, would ye keep my tableware out of this?"

I'm careful to stay as far from the bar as I can to avoid being seen. Instead, I walk the outskirts of the forest, enjoying my own company and treading in the muddy grass. As I walk away from the inn, I hear sobbing. I approach the sound cautiously, and when I get close enough the frizzy red curls instantly tell me it's Marianna. She's holding a bottle of whiskey and drinking it like water. Several other glasses lie around her, empty and tossed away.