Our world was built in a struggle, a struggle for power.
And where there is struggle, there is loss. When a young woman loses the most prized thing her life. She's willing to lose it all to get it back. She'll discover love, loss, and new beginning...
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Day fourteen,
It's been fourteen days since the transfer to madmount front, or as we prisoners like to call it. hell. They call it madmount for a reason, people can go crazy out here being prisoners forced to fight the battle no one wants to fight. Due to "good behavior" I have been provided access to facility resources. Thalia did not receive such a grandiose welcome when she tried clawing a mans eyes out for touching her, as did I. They took her away from me soon after and I felt anger boil so deep in my body my ears felt hot.
On day one I spent most of the day here exploring most regions of the dark bland facility in hopes of finding where they were keeping her until they confined me to my room. From that night on I learned to stick a nail in the corner of the door so it doesn't lock, I also learned that early morning at six a.m. our automatic door locks click signaling us to depart from our rooms. Following the guards, I found her room is 3 rights 2 lefts and 1 long hall away from where my room is located. They kept me out in all my attempts at advancement for her own protection which didn't sit with me right.
I spent 7 days learning the route and routines of the guards keeping me out. Every night like clockwork at twelve a.m. the guards took a shift change and it took the indolent guard eight minutes to walk to his post. In that time I finally reached her room undetected until early morning. And every night i sat at the foot of her bed and watched her watch the stars from the window the same way I watch her, with curiosity and admiration. She never spoke nor did I. Her slightly olive skin reflects beauty in the moonlight of the windowsill and her eyes large and captivating with their deep mystical blue. Her sorrowful soul reeks through her skin as it screams while her physical silence aches into the depths of my own...The void of silence that replaces her sweet voice is the worst punishment. This life has stole her admirable wit with a pit of aching darkness that will shallow you whole if you gaze to long. With lack of sensibility I would let that darkness consume me as long as I can be near her.
On night twelve I reached for her when i saw her lip begin to tremble under the weight of her terminal, in result her eyes flashed to me and a look of anguish pinched her brows. It's a picture my soul will clench onto and find me in my sleep to remind me of the cruel world. The axis that the earth and moon rotate on feels to be turned upside down and rotating a backwards motion when I can't hold her and feel her alto laugh vibrate through her chest into mine.
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