Metamorphosis

3. Meeting

Lucy stood up sharply.

Her father continued eating indifferently, oblivious to the scuffle.

During his absence he had changed significantly: his hair and beard had grown, his face had slimmed down and his gaze became vacant. Instead of the usual cheerful and amiable father she saw a sombre, closed-off man bearing the heavy burden of unforeseen trials.

Nonetheless, he was still her father.

The guards were occupied with the fight, paying no attention to Lucy.

Mr. Baxter finished his soup and straightened up, wiping his hands with a napkin. His gaze passed by his daughter but quickly returned, eyes widening in amazement.

Lucy was ready to run to him, but he subtly shook his head and tapped his wrist.

'It is not a good time,' Lucy understood and slowly sank back into her chair. Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest.

At the same instant a loud signal sounded again, and the inmates began to rise from their seats. The guards finally separated the fighters and escorted them away. The remaining prisoners left the dining room in a tight formation under vigilant supervision.

Lost in thought, Lucy kept her eyes fixed on her father. He got up and exited through the opposite door with the group of men.

Immersed in contemplation, she didn't notice when she found herself back in her cell. Sitting down on the bed, she continued pondering.

Has her father really been in this place all this time, this entire year?!

But why?

Why were they here?

What forbidden act could they have committed?

She began to nervously pace around the tiny space from side to side.

She urgently needs to talk to him – he must know something more. Lucy prayed for a way for them to meet.

Fear gripped her stronger and stronger. How much longer will she be stuck here?

A month?

A year?

What lies ahead of them?

This uncertainty and lack of understanding frightened her far more than everything she had already experienced.

The confined space began to oppress her. Lucy began to rush around the cell, studying it.

The tall, three-metre high door was a thick, smooth piece of metal tightly fitted to the walls, lacking a handle.

Lucy tried to jump and reach the window, but it was too high. She attempted to move the bed and table closer to the window, but they were firmly bolted to the floor.

She opened and closed the tap several times, felt the stone walls with her hands, looked under the bed until finally, in desperation, she climbed onto the bunk, hugging her knees.

Lucy lost track of time. She wasn't even sure what date it was.

'Mother must be going crazy,' she thought bitterly.

Long hours passed until at last the familiar piercing signal and the click of the opening door sounded again.

Lucy literally flew out of the cell.

The crowd of women headed somewhere down the corridor, and Lucy followed them.

To her relief, they were heading outside.

Ahead was a spacious area surrounded by a double fence. Another fence in the middle of the space also divided it into two parts.

The women dispersed on the right side, chatting among themselves.