Lost Memories

Chapter 1

My back rested against the cool wall of my dank cell, the barred window letting in a hint of light from the distant, yet close, outside world. Wrapping my arms around my decaying body, I gazed out between the bars to where the grey clouds drifted above the prison wall, lazy in their slow movements. A shiver ran through my veins as a fresh winter wind swept over me, lifting my unwashed, tangled hair and bringing in the scent of natural aromas, which lulled my subconscious. There wasn't any glass protecting me from the harsh weather around this place; nothing apart from the bars was separating me from freedom. Only those pieces of metal keeping me from my escape, other than the bolted door on the opposite side of the cell.

I pulled the tatty blanket off of the rigid bed and wrapped it tightly around me, breathing in the smell of concrete and the stench of my own odor. Ugh. A bath would have been nice, but no such luxuries were given here. This was solitary confinement.

The prison was in the middle of nowhere, as far as I could tell; keeping the outside world away from the convicts locked inside. All I knew was that outside there was a forest of pines and the weather was always cold, so I figured I had to have been up in the northern hemisphere somewhere. It wasn't pleasant all year round, especially when the snow settled through the bars and into my so called home, bringing in temperatures that must have been in the minus degrees. Those were the worst days, with nothing but two thin pieces of material to keep my body heat in and the cold out.

I had been in that cell since I can remember, never knowing what I did wrong, growing older without seeing another person but my prison guard; but she didn't count as she never talked to me and I only saw her when she delivered my food and water. It was a lonely life with no one to talk to and thinking about it now, I had barely used my voice since I got here, which was too long ago to remember; it had been years by now, maybe even a decade since I arrived to this hellhole. A stray tear rolled over my grimy cheek landing close to my mouth and slid between my lips, its salty taste passed over my tongue and down my throat, which was a change from the sludge I'm fed here at least.

Now that I was nearly an adult, (well, I think I was nearly an adult. I couldn't remember the exact date of my birthday because I was so young when I last celebrated it, if I ever did) I couldn't stand staying locked up here without a reason. Everyday left me contemplating my reason for living, not that I was suicidal or anything, I just needed to know why I had been dumped here and I couldn't handle not knowing anymore. Had I hurt someone? Did I steal food or cause so much trouble, that they thought I was hazardous to everyone? As my mind whirled with all the possibilities of me being here for the thousandth time, there was a click in my cell door signaling to me it was time for the slop I got to eat, which was also called my breakfast. My cell guard pushed on the door and it creaked as it swung towards me and her hard features came into view from behind the metal, showing that she had a disgusted look on her face, as if I was a despicable human being and as usual, she had a plastic tray in her hands. I had tried to ask her once or twice about why I was here but she just grunted at me in response. Her eyes locked on mine, but no emotion showed; she had covered up the disgust, but still refused to make eye contact with me as she plopped the food down in front of me and turned, walking out. But before the door closed completely, she dared to look over her shoulder at me, taking in my scrawny and dirty body, before her bright blue eyes bore into mine, and then locked up the door again. That was her form of rebellion, looking me in the eye as if saying 'you deserve this and everything you've received'.

After eating the sludge, I slid into the corner of the room and huddled up into the smallest ball I could possibly squeeze into in order to keep myself warm from the winter chill. I shut my eyes, imagining what the outside world and other people would be like. The guard was the only person that I had seen since I'd been in the cell, and that had been a long time. I could vaguely remember my parents, my father's green eyes like mine and my mother's blonde frizzy hair also like mine, I sort of remembered my own appearance from the last time I had been taken to the bathroom. There was a grubby mirror in there, which I could almost see my complete reflection in. I wasn't even sure if I had made up my parents or not, I wouldn't have been surprised if I had, but that's when it struck me: why would my parents let them take me away from them? Why would any parents let their young child be thrown into a prison to die of starvation in the years to come? What did I do so wrong to make me wind up in this horrendous place? I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before. How could I be so stupid? But there was a problem, how could I find out if no one would tell me anything? Or more specifically, my guard wouldn't tell me anything.