Before Your Eyes

Mystery Of Courage

Time kept marching in its eternal revolt, drilling itself through my bones. No one entered since the officer. I had been forgotten. Was that a good thing? Maybe. However I hungered. Craved for whatever scraps could be found. I held my hands on my stomach and then entered a bitter epiphany. No one had entered since the officer. No one had returned to prohibit me. I felt it wrong at first to stand and move about, but my hungering sensation was becoming insufferable. I flung myself up and unbinded the buckle grasping my leg. As it fell apart, tranquillity hindered but only for a withering second. I felt paralysed as I sat there, unknowing of my situation. "What to do next?" That thought ran circles around my being.

My legs quaked with furious angst as they approached the floor. The vicious rhythms of sensation took control of my body making it slump to the floor with a great force. Almost like I was regaining consciousness, I staggered to my feet. My hair drizzled across my face in brown streams, shielding my view. I brushed it away with my hands only for it to fall back. With one hand holding my long frizzy fringe, I searched the bedside drawer with the other. My hand scuffled for items of use, anything which could aid me. To my misfortune, nothing but an elastic band was useful. I tied my hair back and stood only inches away from the door. Once I stepped out here, there would be no going back. This was the point of no-return. I closed my eyes tight and fear subsided. I took a step. Then another step. I placed my palm around the door frame and slowly pulled it open. As it creaked I bit my lip, pleading for no one to hear me. The door was open, all that was left to be done was to take a few more steps. That is precisely what I did. I snuck around the hallways, clinging to the walls and taking corners with extreme caution. Silence echoes throughout the building, not even my footsteps were audible. Past cells, rehab centres, therapy dorms I crept. I had little idea of where I was going, as I had only ever been in a few rooms during my years locked here. Reading the words assembled on each door, one came to interest. 'STAFF ONLY-WASHROOM'. Without thinking, I shoved my way through the door. The sound was blanketed by someone in the shower, the shower curtain was imprinted where her aura lay barren to it. Her focus gave me an opportunity. The woman was a short build around 5'6" and seemed deafened to any noise obstructions rattled around her. To the clothing hook I jolted. Like a petty thief, I swiped her clothes, leaving her only with underwear and a towel to spare. I was 5'8", at least that's what it said on my medical papers. Her uniform was a tight fit, but the fit would be a worthy price none the less towards my salvation. The greyish-brownness of her uniform almost sank symmetrical to my skin and it's goulish texture due to the absence of light in the building. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows so as to not look out of place, however I tried to walk quickly so the sight of my above ankle-swingers could be evaded. I stood in front of a mirror and upon seeing my face was crowded with curiosity, shame and guilt. I couldn't really recall what I looked like, all I had seen was the fuzz of colour on a screen. Although my face did not show it, this was the face of a murderer. The nose of a murderer, the mouth and cheeks of a murderer. Not the eyes however. These eyes that I witnessed now were those of a spark or life. Something resided here, something good, something bold yet something afraid. The eyes of a murderer were perished. They had no life, no emotion or soul. These eyes I saw now, I hoped for them to stay. Hair hallowed by mistreatment would be sure to catch the attention of a few peers. Although I loved my hair and how it flowed as the rivers had, I had to alter it to even have a glimpse of chance. Besides all the medicine in the cabinet behind the mirror, lay a slightly rusted pair of scissors. In spite of the fact that they were likely to have been used for cutting nails due to their curved blades, I would have to make do. Tightening my eyelids and bracing myself, I started to snip. From one side of the neck to the other, I kept cutting until the deed was done. I closed the cabinet and opened my eyes. Hair lay sore in the sink. I twisted the taps and let it all droop down into the sink. The great force of the shower stopped and that was my signal to leave.