Empty

Stuck

The man inched closer to my shaking form. I kept my eyes on the ground. Terror coursed through my veins. Echo, oh how I hope you're okay. I yelped in pain when the man touched a healing cut on my temple. One of the people had thrown a rock at me. He looked at me as if he knew me. In what nether world, I wonder, would a business person like him know a thing like me? I'm stunned by the how gently he touched me. He murmured something indecipherable. I averted my eyes from his chocolate orbs. He took my hand in his. I was frightened by this gesture. None of them did this unless it was some kind of sick, twisted role play. That I'm forced to play the lead role in.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Being stuck inside your own head, it's where I've been for my entire existence. It's like a labyrinth you think you know your way around, but really you're just going in circles. How will you ever escape? It's hell just hell. I can't open my eyes. It feels like they've been sewn shut. Me, that's the only person I've ever known. The nightmares have only gotten worse. The only thing separating me from the outside was an open space and some metal bars.

The cold wind whispered its hoarse, sad song through the space and into the cell. Echo cried. I tried to hush her, but she craved more than a raspy rendition of a some-what-lullaby. I couldn't keep her quiet. They  were coming I could hear their heavy footsteps. My heart pounded so much that I could feel it anywhere in my frail form. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt to keep my hands from shaking. The door swung open, an angry woman with a cane burst into the doorway. She smiled an evil smile.

"There's my money maker." She smirked. I scooted back into the corner . "Aren't you going to talk to me?" She was holding a cane. Fear obscured my face. I decided now would be a great time to incorporate this "God" character that so many of the people scream about. I mentally said the word God over and over. It was like my entire existence now centered around that one single, solitary word. My body shook uncontrollably. It was like fear was a witch and I was under its horrible spell. My mind, soul, and body ached from anticipation of what horrible thing this vile woman had planned to me. The woman grabbed my wrist and dragged my shaking form from the room. She pulled me through the squalid hallways of our prison. Of course there are others like me. Echo is one of them, well she'll be one of them. Either she will be sold, or she will be rented. I mentally cursed the horrible world I lived in. It's so, so very hard to be kind to the world when all you've ever felt is hate. The woman pulled me into her office. It was not squalid like the other rooms in this hell hole. It was gorgeous, a heaven compared to everything that I know. The chair was spun away from us, toward a window, oh a window a real window. The sun shown outside, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue, clouds floated lazily across the sky. I felt a presence not just mine and the terrible lady's but someone else. The woman walked to chair and leaned over. I toyed with my scraggly hair. It kept me from looking around the room. "Well, darling, aren't you surprised I pulled you out here?" I gave a small nod. "Ah, so you're one of those that doesn't talk?" I nodded once more. "Your fourteenth birthday was yesterday." The lady stared at me with anticipation. What she didn't understand is that I'd never talk, not to her anyway. I then realized that most people never got to, so much as gaze upon the "gloriousness" she thought she was. I was special in that way, and that way only.

I couldn't tear my eyes from the window. Just a thin sheet of glass separating me from the outside. "You don't get it, do you?" She asked.

"No, it's you that doesn't get it. You don't have to get on your knees almost everyday to please so person that you don't know, just so you won't be beaten. You don't get what it's like not know if you're going to wake up in the mornings, and honestly wish that you wouldn't wake up." I never made eye contact with the woman but I could feel her icy gaze on me the whole time.

"I see someone found her voice after all." I then realized I had said all of those things aloud. My raspy voice and ill used vocal cords found a way to speak after all. I stared at her. "Go on! Get your filthy self out of here. I have a little surprise for you, when you get back." I worried. I worried as to what she had done. I scurried quietly through the dingy halls of my foul prison. Making sure never to look up. That's when I saw it. A limp, lifeless, bloody, beaten baby lying on the concrete floor of my cell. Her head smashed in, blood poured from the gaping hole in her skull. That's when I realized that's Echo. My Echo. My reason for living. My jaw hung open, I was still taking in the mess in front of me. The blood ran across the floor toward my feet. Echo's brilliant blue eyes shown, clouded over, yet some how shining. I couldn't, quite, muster the courage to walk over and close her eyes. I just kept staring at what little hope I had for this world. It stood there mocking me, like it had been plucked from me and now starred mockingly back at me. I've, finally, broken.