Loving Rain (Watty Awards 2011)

Chapter 10 - The Tower

Loving Rain - Ch. 10

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Having a free hand changed things drastically. The first thing I did was find a loose stone, and I began to dig it out of the wall. The mortar that was holding it all together made the tips of my fingers turn raw and bleed as I dug, but I had an idea and I didn’t want to give up. So I didn’t.

               I wasn’t sure how long I worked at that stone, but eventually a small piece of it broke off. Not enough to give any light, which was what I what I was hoping for, but as I turned it over in my hand and felt it’s sharp edge a new idea popped into my mind. I turned around as much as I could so that I was facing the wall, and then I took the stone and began to carve a line. It took several times before the mark was deep enough that I could run my hand over it and feel it, but as soon as it was done I started to carve another line right beside it.

               Two days, I thought to myself. I’ve been here for two days.

               When I finished that job, I tucked the sharp rock into the sleeve of my dress so that no one could find it, and then I turned back around so that I covered up my marks. This was my secret; my own little way of staying sane. I didn’t want anybody else to know about it.

               I tried to use my free hand to pull my other hand out of the shackle, but nothing I tried worked. The metal was too tempered to bend or break as I tried to tug on it, and I could only slide one more finger in there before there was no room to move at all.

               Maybe if I took the rock and tried to just create more space…. If I could push the rock in between my hand and its captive, I could bend the metal just enough that I could eventually pull my hand free. I grabbed the rock one more time and began to shove it in, rubbing it up against my wrist so that I knew I was heading in the right direction.

               Slowly and surely, the metal began to give way, and the rock was ever so slightly making its way up into the shackle. I bit my lip in concentration, knowing that this was the closest I had ever gotten to getting my freedom back. If I could get loose from the chains, maybe the next time someone came up here I could surprise them, run out of the room, and apologize to Alan so that he would know he could let me go. That I had learned to be stronger.

               I jumped as the rock sliced into my skin. When it met the cuts that the shackles had made when I had tried to pull myself loose, the rock had suddenly changed course and dug into my sores, causing my wrist to become weak. I dropped the stone, unable to go any further, and I could feel my willpower slowly dying.

               Alan would come back for me when the time was right. There was no sense in rushing it. I trusted Alan, and I knew that he would know exactly what he was doing.

               So, in short, I gave up.

               Lee started coming in every day, bringing me food, water, and the chamber pot. The first couple of times I would look up at her, but her brows would be furrowed and her lips drawn tight, so I decided that evidently, she didn’t want to talk to me. In the dark room, I had plenty of time to dwell on things that angered me, and so my reaction to her rudeness grew and grew until finally, I didn’t even care anymore.

               She didn’t want to talk, and I didn’t want to listen. So it all worked out fine.

               Every time she came though, I knew I had to make one more mark on my wall. As soon as she left, it was the first thing I would do. That became my life: sit in the dark contemplating anything and everything, ignore Lee and all of her attempts not to talk to me, and then make a single mark to count of another day.