Memories of You

Chapter Forty-Three - Room and Board

Thank you for everyone that continues to read, vote, follow and comment on this story. You guys are amazing readers and I really couldn't ask for better as I delve deeper into these dark chapters. I promise the end is near.

Thank you again to Depecher and BarbaraK2U for your amazing work.

Tris' POV

           

I lay on my back with my arms pressed tightly across my chest, shivering slightly against the cold concrete floor, trying to remember an old poem I came across a couple of years ago. I only remember a few lines, but I do remember something about dying for beauty and dying for truth.  That the two were one, but I'm having a hard time remembering how the poem went.  My brain is in a fog of uncertainty and doubt, wondering when my torture will end.  Will I die here, or will I be freed and walk back out through these gates of hell? 

I hear light footsteps coming toward my door, along with the slight squeak of a heavy cart being pushed; I sit up slowly so I don't make myself dizzy.  A soldier I don't recognize opens my door with his head down, coming in with a much larger pot of soup today, and I can see the surprise in his eyes when he looks up and sees me sitting in the corner.  I guess he must not have been expecting a prisoner in this cell, based on his reaction.  However, he quickly wipes his face void of emotion and steps inside my small room.  I see that the contents of the pot in his hands are still warm as curls of steam continue to rise from within. 

He doesn't say anything, just sets the pot on the ground by the opposite wall, taking my empty pot and bowl and giving me a clean one.  He then pulls a roll out of a bag that's slung across his chest, placing it in the clean bowl. 

My stomach growls loudly at the sight of the meal, and I have to clench my hands to keep from flinging myself toward my meal.  I just finished my last bowl of soup this morning and thought I wouldn't receive anything more for quite a while.  For some reason they are giving me extra rations, and right now I honestly don't care why. 

I wait patiently, only my eyes and hand betraying my desire to move, until the soldier slams the door behind him, my ears ringing from the loud bang.  I scramble over to the pot, carefully placing my hands against the warm metal.  I moan at the feeling, and try to transfer into my body what heat I can from it, pressing my warmed hands against my cheeks and neck.  I sit on the ground, pulling the pot onto my lap to try and warm my cool limbs, too.  The more weight I lose, the colder I seem to get, not that the concrete floor or thin prison uniform is helping anything.

I pick up the bowl with the bread, and take a small bite out of the roll.  It's stale, but at least it's not rotten.  I dip the bowl into the cabbage soup, deciding to have a full bowl instead of the half bowls I have been allowing myself.  I dip my bread into the soup, letting it soften, and then take a bite.

My stomach growls again at the sensation of a warm meal and carbohydrates.  I eat greedily for once, able to easily dismiss the cabbage floating in the thin broth. It only takes a half a bowl of the thin soup and bread to satisfy me, but for once I don't feel like I haven't eaten when I'm done.  I tip what's left of my soup back into the pot, and move it so I can continue to draw warmth from it.  I lean my back against the wall, sighing in contentment.  I'll probably have another half bowl today and then go back to my once a day portions after that, just in case.  I close my eyes, feeling tired; the warmth of the pot drawing me into a fitful sleep.

**********

My eyes snap open upon hearing the familiar heavy footsteps of Eric coming toward my door.  I sit up quickly, feeling marginally better after consuming my second bowl today.  My door is flung open and Eric stands before me, a familiar, manic expression on his face.  "Well, Stiff, it seems you need to earn your keep around here."  He pulls the gun from the holster on his hip, pointing it directly at my chest.  "Stand up!" he barks.