Little Lamb

33 ❦ where was your heart

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I miss him. I miss Riggs.
I miss him so much it's killing me, this ache of not having him close.

It makes me sick, how much I like him. Sick that I want him to be mine, that I keep thinking of everything I want him to do to me.

I wish I'd just die already. This place drives me insane, tearing me up in all the wrong ways.

I ran a hair brush through my hair, feeling the way it snagged and scraped over what used to be soft waves. Now it felt like I was brushing straw. Whatever silky used to mean, I guess that's long gone.

Thanks, captivity.

But then, as I worked through another knot, a clump of hair came away in the brush. I stared at it, wide eyed. My hair. Just... falling out. What the hell? This had never happened before.

I held up the brush with the loose strands, a panicked squeak slipping out.
Great. Just great. My fingers tightened on the handle, and in a burst of frustration, I smacked the brush against my head. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to scream or cry or just pull my hair out myself.

It has to be the stress. The constant tension, the nerves, it's like every part of me is unspooling, one strand at a time.

I grab the closest thing that looks even halfway comfortable, a pair of old sweatpants and a sweater that's soft but heavy. The moment I pull them on, it's like a shield against the chill that's starting to creep into the air. Fall must be coming. I can feel it in the bite of the wind slipping through the tent, in the way my skin prickles.

I'm sitting on this flimsy excuse for a cot, knees pulled up to my chest, trying to shake off the humiliation still simmering under my skin. Allister dropped me off here like a delivery no one wanted, and I can still feel his lingering pity, his awkward attempt at kindness after Riggs kicked me out without a second thought.

But it's fine. I'm okay. I'll be alright, like always, at least, that's what I keep telling myself. Even though I know I'm not. Even though my heart's bruised and my mind's a mess.

I looked around. To the hole in the tent over in the corner but it was shut tight now, like they sealed it just for me because of that night I tried sneaking out to get a glimpse of what was out there. Guess they figured I'd be dumb enough to try again.

Allister poked his head into the tent, a plate in hand. "Hey, thought you might be hungry," he said, stepping inside. I looked up at him as he set the plate down on my cot, the smell of whatever it was making my stomach grumble. "It's not much, but it's something."

"Thanks," I said, trying to sound grateful while my mind raced with thoughts of escape.

"Do you know when we'll be moving out of here?" I asked, taking a cautious bite. "Like, to a different location?"

"Why? You don't like it here? Nature, fresh air. What's not to love?" he says.

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a smile. "Oh, sure. Because being stuck in a tent with no way out is my idea of paradise."

He chuckled. "Fair point. But you have to admit, it's better than being cooped up in some stuffy room."

"Maybe." I said, unable to hold back a silly smile.

Allister looked at me, his eyes softened. "You know Lola, you have a beautiful smile."

Oh? His compliment caught me off guard, warmth flooding my cheeks as I looked down at my hands, avoiding his gaze.
"You really think so?"

"I do," he replied. "It lights up your whole face."

I could feel his eyes on me, a small smirk dancing on his lips. There was something in his gaze that sent a flutter through my chest. "You're just saying that to make me feel better Allister."