Estla

Chapter 1

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I walked into the dark, dingy prison that held an odd smell in the air, looking through the bars of the prison cells as I walked to the one the guard had directed me to. I pitied the many sad souls awaiting their long anticipated death in this horrible place. It almost made me want to just take them all out of this place with me when it was time for me to leave but I wouldn't because I knew why they were in there. They did something to deserve this. They were the ones who got themselves in here and now they have to pay the price for their crimes.

I finally got to the cell I was looking for and peered through the bars of the cell. I saw a woman with long, wavy black hair that reached the ground from where she was sitting on the floor, in a tangled, greasy mess.

I gasped and swung my head to the side, unable to bear seeing the poor woman in such misery. After regaining my composure, I took in a shaky breath.

"Mrs. Winslow?" I said to the woman.

She showed no reaction to my words, gazing intently at the disgusting cell floor.

"Levana." I said to her, crossing my arms. "It's rude to not answer when someone says something, you know." I mentally palmed my forehead for saying something like that to someone, obviously not very mentally stable.

She slowly lifted her gaze when hearing my words. She looked at me, her face void of emotion. Though her empty gaze was pointed in my direction, she seemed as though she didn't truly see me.

"Yes." She said slowly. "That is my name." Her voice cracked and it sounded like she had not spoken in a very long time.

My gaze softened when I heard her quiet and pitiful voice. "Levana, I'm here for Magic Weekly. I've been asked to interview you for next weeks newspaper." I said to her. "Well, not really asked but rather I suggested it and my idea was approved. I mean I probably won't get the front page, but hey just being allowed to do the story is enough for now. Once I do well with enough stories, I'm sure they'll-- Oh! The interview, right! I'm so sorry! I was rambling again. I do that a lot." I scratched the back of my head and chuckled nervously.

Her cracked lips pulled up into a thin smile. It was hardly noticeable but I caught it. "It's ok." She said. "I haven't had a nice conversation with anyone for a long time." She whispered something under her breath.

"What was that?" I asked her.

"Nothing." She said quietly, reverting back to her sullen mood.

I let out a sigh. "Well let's get on with this interview then, shall we?"

"So tell me, what's your story?"