Lost

Chapter 37

Belle’s POV

‘Curiosity killed the cat’. I’ve heard Miss Hableknuck say it a couple of times in class…It’s not that I don’t know what it means, because I do, but I don’t quite understand this simple concept. I always thought curiosity was a good thing.  I mean, that’s why they have the show ‘Curious George’ right? To show kids that it’s good to be curious and question the world around us. It’s a part of being human. So why would a cat die because of that? It just doesn’t make sense. As far as I’m concerned, nothing bad has ever happened to a person for being curious. I think. These are just some of the things that boggle my mind.

 I thought of this quote today, when I noticed something very odd going on and I wasn’t sure what to do. It’s not as if this whole experience was the usual thing you’d come across on a daily basis. I wanted to ignore it and let it pass through me, like I had been doing these past couple of days. But this time, this time was different-I actually wanted to know what was going on.  This was something, though I tried many times to forget, I just couldn’t. So beg pardon, if my curiosity later on was a bad thing, but I just had to know.

If it doesn’t make sense, well, let me first tell you what happened the next day.

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I hear the usual sound of footsteps approach the door in a slow, but powerful and demanding way-I call this a power walk, which is walking with a certain purpose. I assume that purpose would be what it is everyday-to give us our breakfast and empty out the bucket. The door slams open, as usual, to reveal two shoddy men who appear, as always, to be drunk and unshaven, one of them carrying a tray with food and the other one…is carrying a blindfold?

This is weird. Oh no! Am I being sent to the boss again? Great. I bet this time he really is going to hurt me…or worse. What if I die today? Is this really the end? I’m just a child! Don’t do this! I deserve so much better than this! Why!? I didn’t mean for any of this to-

“Food rug-rats. All yours.” The same deep gruff voice announces to the bunch of empty stomachs in the room. The tray lands on the same table it always does and, just like always, some bowls topple over and spill all over.

“Well its Saturday little minions. Come on you know what you’ve got to do.” Well this phrase is something my ears have never heard before and among all its oddity I can’t help but wonder why Saturday should be different from any other day.  If that couldn’t be more befuddling, what is it that we’ve got to do? When no one stirs or even breathes, the man grows dangerously impatient and has to walk over to a certain girl and whisper to her certain things that I haven’t the pleasure of hearing.

“Bring ‘er over.” The other man whistles at his partner to grab his attention, and also indirectly prevent the chances of his partner committing child murder.

The girl has no choice but to drag her chains along the floor in reluctance as she follows the man to her chosen fate. The familiar sound of keys rattling fills my ears and brings me a joy that can only felt by the unlocking of chains. Soon enough the girl leaves and the door slam shuts, followed by the series of fastening locks.

“What was that about?” I whisper to Bethany in spite of our cold war pact; I can’t help but to feel intrigued. This is the first interesting thing that is to come ablaze since the accident.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bethany’s voice sounds so heavy with gloominess it kill my curiosity…temporarily that is, until the girl comes back several hours later.

Later that day…

The heavy door swings open in the middle of the day to free the sentenced girl of the real world and lock her back up in the world of us ‘rug rats’.  Her silence disturbs me and only gives rise to my curiosity even more.

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