Lost

Chapter 26

Belle’s POV

“So I’m guessing you don’t know how to work a loom?” Bethany asks me even though I know she is fully aware of the answer.

“No.” She nods as expected.

The first thing she teaches me is that, since I am new, I am prone to pricking myself with a needle, so if that happens I need to suck my wound until the bleeding stops because there aren’t any band-aids. The next important thing she teaches me is how to pick the right materials, as in the right shades of colors and what kind of texture you want when you’re making a rug. Then we start off with the basics. She tells me that since I have only about an hour or so until the working day is over and I need to make at least one rug, it would be better if I used a weaving loom, instead of a peg one-whatever that means. It’s pretty much just weaving bits and pieces of fabric into the loom, which is pretty much just a wooden frame-stand thing with a lot of strings attached in the middle. It’s hard to explain.  I finally decide to pick the colors  black and white and gray-sad, depressing colors that express my mood right now. I take one strip and weave it in and out of the mess of threads until the fabric reaches the end of the frame. Then I take the end and tie a knot. That’s pretty much the whole process. So I take one black strip of fabric, weave it, take another black strip, weave it, take another black strip, weave it, take another black strip,, weave it, take another black strip, weave it, take another black strip, weave it, take a white strip of cloth, weave it, repeat the whole process again, but instead use a gray strip of fabric, and the pattern continues…

In and out…and in and out and in and out…

Over and under. Tie the knot.

Then take another strip and in and out and in and out and in and out…

Over and over again…

Hmmm…I think I’ll use a couple more black strips. No wait...Yeah. More. No less. More. Ummm...That’s enough. Now I need a white. Perfect. Then over and over and under again. Umm…How many black strips did I use? I think…one, two, three, four, five, six? Okay. One…in and out and in and out and in and out…two…in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out…three…in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out..four…in and out and …wait did I mess up? I did, didn't I! Oh no. Ughh I should start over. No wait it looks fine. Or does it? Am I doing this right? What if I do it wrong and they get mad? But it looks fine. Yeah. I think it looks great. No where was I? Four and um...what? Is it and in or out? Ugh I can't tell there are too many strings! I umm...think it's in. In and out and in and out...Five...In and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out and...Six..in and out and in and out and...oh no I lost it. I-ughh- here it is. Where was I again? Ughh this is soo difficult. Okay I think it was-I think I should go over or was it under? Aren't they the same? Oh man... I'm messing up way too much. This is going to take me forever! (struggles with fabric) If only I could get this right! (weaves some more) In and out and in and out. Tie the knot. In and out and in and out. FInally. I'm getting the hang of it! Okay now I should be almost-hey! I'm nowhere close to being done! I only filled up, barely half the frame. Ugh! (sighs) Over and under and over and under. I’ll use some gray. Or should i use white? Gray or white? Gray. No white. No Gray. Ughh maybe I should ask Bethany. Wait I don't want to disturb her...wait why does it matter! It doesn't matter. Does it? (slaps forehead in frustration) I'll just use the gray. Over and under and over and under and over and under and over and under and over and under and over…I’m so thirsty…and wait where was I? Oh focus! Over and under and-But I’m so hungry too! No, I can do this. I just have to concentrate. It was-I was going to use some more black. Yes. (stomach growls) Ughh. Why do I have to be hungry? I am not that hungry. Oh yes I am…But I can’t eat until I finish. But I can’t work on an empty stomach. I want food and I want it now. Oh… I’ve never been so-so….so…distressed, yes that’s the word, I am distressed! I want food! I need food!

I try so hard not to-I don’t want to cause any trouble with the other prisoners, but I have to express my pain in some way or I am going to explode; after all I have about as much tolerance has a 7 year old. In short,  I release a soft groan as a way of letting out my frustration and, even though I plan on being heard, Bethany’s sharp radar-like ears detect the sound almost immediately. The next thing I know, she is right there next to me with a genuinely concerned look on her face-I know because her eyebrows are scrunched up.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” She rapidly inspects my hands over and over again to check for  any signs of bleeding. Of course she finds none. Bleeding fingers are not my problem-my problem is much worse. (Though, I think it’s in matter of opinion.)

“No. I’m just hungry. I haven’t eaten in a while, I guess.” I clutch my stomach to emphasize my hunger pains, though I’m sure there is no need to, because, knowing Bethany, she would give me sympathy for something as little as a paper cut.

“Oh. Well I do have some bread, if you-“ She digs into her pocket to uncover a folded napkin, but before she can reveal its content I subconsciously grab it from her and shove whatever is in there in my mouth.

I chew so fast and hard that I don’t even mind the staleness of the bread; in fact, I pay no attention to the flavor whatsoever. My whole focus is on the mechanical digestion of the bread-the faster I swallow, the faster I get something in my stomach before my stomach eats itself.  After a lot of constant chewing, I finally manage to break down the hard exterior of the bread into smaller bits that are hopefully small enough to swallow. I ignore any chances I have of choking and gulp the pieces down my throat. For a moment I am relieved to finally have eaten something, but at the same time I am a little sickened by the feeling I am experiencing of having food go down your esophagus very, very, VERY slowly. I almost feel like I can’t breathe and the dryness of the bread makes me wish I had something to drink even more. Though it may seem disgusting, if it weren’t for the build-up of saliva in my mouth, I’d probably never get the bread chunks down my throat. A little bit dazed by the whole experience, I glance at the ceiling and just close my eyes for a second, relishing every bit of satisfaction I can get because I know it probably won’t last very long. I am interrupted when I hear someone speak…

“Wow Belle. I’ve never seen you eat like that. Are you okay? How long has it been since You’d eaten?” Bethany places her hand on my shoulder and brings me back to the reality of the situation at hand. There’s no time for pleasure and satisfaction-I have work that needs to be done. I need to toughen up if I want to survive.

“Too long.” I curtly reply, and as quick as that I get back to my work.

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