- Chapter Twenty-three -
**LENNO'S POV**
Hopeful
I wake up.
It’s the first time I notice light since I came here. Hope is a bunch of spirits that emigrated from so many places around the world and decided to settle in my body. And I can barely feel the pain.
I wonder how I even fell asleep at night, I was so excited–as I can remember–I could never stop thinking and just sleep. But at last, I did. Hope can be exhausting sometimes.
Catori had told me that I shall wait for no more torture, but I can’t help but anticipate a proof. The sun is bright in the sky; and we’re in the early morning hours. I keep glancing at the door, but it never opens. I sigh in relief. It’s time to work.
The guards are noticeably few outside, and I keep staring at the hole in the ground - dying to see those small hands making their way out and up.
A few hours pass. And I hear something underground. I’m so joyful I think I will break through the walls and just run away. I help by removing the dirt I’ve refilled the hole with, yesterday. And here she comes. My only hope. Catori.
She stands straight, dusts off her clothes and removes the scarf covering her hair and face. “I’m happy to see you, Lenno,” she whispers.
“Can never be happier than I am,” I laugh quietly.
“Look what I got you,” she says as she bends, getting something from the hole behind her. A satchel. She opens it and searches inside it for a couple of seconds before tossing it in my arms. “Here, I’ve brought you some vegetables to eat and herbs to heal,” she kind of smirks.
“Hmm, okay,” I say, looking inside the satchel. There is a carrot, corn, and a small leather bag. “The herbs in the bag?”
“Yup,” she says, “give it to me.”
I hand it to her, and she opens it, it reveals a kind of thick creamy mixture, its color nearly brownish green. “What’s this?” I ask, eyes wide.
“I know it looks disgusting,” she smiles, “but believe me, it works.”
“Don’t tell me I should eat that … thing.”
She chuckles, “no, of course not.” I breathe. “It’s a mixture of herbs and some other stuff that aren’t important to be discussed now. I’ve made it. And I’m good at medicines. You can trust me.”
“Okay,” I smile. “So should I just apply it over the wounds and bruises?”
“Exactly,” she smiles. “That’s the purpose of the creamy texture.”
“Fine,” I take the bag from her. “How often?”
“When your body already absorbs it, apply again immediately. This should be enough for today, I’ll get you another one tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmheartedly. “Do you need help?”
“With what?” I ask hesitantly.
YOU ARE READING
Devour | on hold
Teen FictionShe's like a note played from a flute, quite sad, very determined. Like the gushing wind, blowing over the river waters mercilessly. Like an arrow, if persuaded by a sly breeze, could fly off hitting the wrong target. She likes the idea of not being...
