Deck of Cards

Day 8- Scarlett

Jack of Diamonds- looking after the hounds for 0hrs

Scarlett's POV

No hounds, it was the one card that I was sure that I liked. But then again I didn't know most of the cards. The unknown was better than the knowing in my opinion. It was crazy to think that it had only been eight days, inside that cell it seemed to slow down time so that seconds felt like days and days felt like weeks. It was hellish.

My guard didn't bother turning up on diamond days, he only came to hand me muck and then leave me to swallow the grimy stuff. It tasted of nothing but had the texture of cold sick, it was horrible but it fed you. I never thought that I would eat it on the first day- it seemed too nightmarish to even go near.

I kind of missed the hounds, they were my only companions in this cold world. It was the only activity so far where I had left feeling better than when I had walked in. My guard didn't really count as a companion and to my knowledge I was the only one they were playing the game with. It should have made me feel special but it made me feel even worse. I didn't care if I had been handpicked, I only cared about not being there. Being chosen to die wasn't exactly star treatment.

Home was constantly on my mind, all I wanted to do was wake up in my own bed with my crisp sheets surrounding me. Instead I would wake up in the cold cell which I was now beginning to relate to the word 'Home' instead of my actual house.

It scared me to think that soon I would be so accustomed to my cell that I might actually like it. You hear stories of people that grew to love being kidnapped or grew to love their kidnapper. I wouldn't be one of those people. The headline would be something like, "CRAZY GIRL REFUSES TO LEAVE CELL AND WILL ONLY EAT MUCK". I shivered at the thought.

As any abductee would tell you, escape was always on my mind. Constantly playing on it. But any chance of escaping was bleak, there was no chance I could even escape my cell myself because the key to open it wasn't kept on a loop on my guards belt, nope he kept it in his top pocket. I would need a recruitment and anyone who worked here was obviously enjoying the show so why would they help the show walk away. Not walk- run, sprint as fast as she could. It was causing me to be delusional, I was constantly dreaming of walking out of a door and being greeted by the bright light of the outdoors. Just being able to feel the air whip through my hair. It wasn't normal to crave the taste of clean oxygen. It wasn't normal to miss the sound of insects whizzing past you.

It wasn't normal to be locked up in a cell.

I had watched so many movies about people escaping from prison, they always seemed to have clever ways like digging through stone or climbing through vents. I was in a cell made of straight stone, no cracks to be seen and I didn't have a ventilation shaft above me. Of course it was escape proof- imagine the consequences that they would face if anyone found out. It was also probably to drive people insane. I knew it was driving me insane. I felt like a bomb, constantly ticking and I knew that soon I would explode.

I needed a new guard to come, I needed someone that I could get on my side. My brutish one wouldn't even speak to me let alone lend me a knife or anything that could help me escape. I needed one of those people in the movies that would supply the things to the captives to help them escape and ended up running away with them. I needed that. But trusting people in that place was hard, everyone seemed to be against you. They all wanted you there for the same reason- to torture you. To break you. To see you die.

It was around lunchtime when I noticed a shift in the familiar shadows of the corridor- it looked like someone was there. My first reaction was fear, a cold fear, as I imagined the scenarios that could occur. Then, I felt hope as I imagined a guardian angel watching me. Making sure that I was ok.

"Hello," I called out with my heart in my mouth but excitement bubbling inside. Nobody answered, and soon I gave up looking. But when I looked again, I thought I saw a tuft of blond hair. Just a trick of the light, I told myself. I knew it wasn't, I knew someone had been looking at me. Maybe I did have an ally. Maybe I had a start.