Wished Away

These Chains

"How could you!" She screamed blankly at the cold door as her sobs continued to fill the bare room. She sank to the floor as she realised her efforts were making her lower her chances of escape in that manner. Her unmistakable cries for help had not ceased since she awoke, but in that time she had started to lose her voice and with it her hopes.

To her the world was a cruel and unforgiving place, she hated it. No, she loathed it, despised it, she was disgusted by it.

But she had not always been this way. This once sweet and innocent girl had seen murder and sin, her eyes stained to the least. And with it came disease and the disease of all those important. To say she had seen it all, well, that could not explain the hurt and suffering. The consequences to the foolish people around her, bouncing back towards her. She, the steady ground in which those loathsome humans trod, was quite done with their ways.

However, the world is cruel. And once all light is extinguished, it is rare to see it again. Almost as though what little wicker with the wax of its candle was gone, never there to see. But in that, there is a love above all that can light it. True love. But with it comes new love, the kind that is easily misleading and tests the mind and heart. Great measures come with it's uncovering, some so great that the holder would rather drown in sorrows that light it again. To dare seek into that shadow-less box again takes a strength of will. To guide the weak hearted through its troublesome ways and nightmare-like house of horrors.

And in that way, she had ventured off course and was now suffering for it.

"Please... Please, I'm sorry! I don't know what to say, I didn't mean it..." Her silent sobs echoed through the cracks of the tiring door. But yet they left no dent in the man behind its heart. Her cracking voice was dry in the cell, she had swallowed what little saliva was left in her parched mouth, and forced it down her throat. It was as though a lump had formed and would not leave, daring her to find comfort in the information.

"Look, sweetie," began the hushed voice of the man, "you won't leave. That boy is gone, hun and those filthy people outside here can't harm you. They won't touch you again, and you can stay here and relax." Relax? Ah, and how about that boy. Had that memory been her true love. This man that held her captive was truly a reason to doubt such thoughts. But in such despair, it would be wonderful to hold such feelings, even if they are a path to delusion.

The girl began to crawl away from the door, sickened at the fact that her captor was only a door away. Her thoughts at a temporary halt, her mind bursting with crazed thoughts, begging and scratching at her brain. Wanting to fill the empty void that it had left. She found herself slumped against a wall with her eyes being pried open only by the means of alert. If she had it her own way, no one would suffer in the ways she had. In fact, she, herself, would be sprawled across a comfortable bed, adoring the peace of a night she had long forgotten.

The thought had left her limbs weak and her mouth drooling for the relief of a well-deserved rest. A trip out and away from all hurt and suffering. She would no longer be present in reality, only in her peaceful, mindless, state. In her world, she was the queen, a ruler like no other. And she ruled with a fair, iron fist. All the work that she had put into a reality that was stolen from her, all her work. What had been important to her, a hero, a family to love, even a life to live. She had retained it in this state. Although the state was nothing more than fiction, it was hers. Her escape, nothing could go wrong. And just in that way she dozed off. Away from reality.

• • •

"Wake up!" A hushed voice hissed through the door. It sounds familiar and important, however, in its own right, it was urgent sounding. She scrambled to the door, aware in this state of mind, that this voice was different.