The Bone Cutter

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I was given my own hotel room. It was beautiful, marble walls, stone ceiling, chandeliers, million-dollar furniture. 

It was a beautiful prison. 

I didn't sleep all night. I found myself pacing back and forth, wanting to break everything in the room. My father was in his own hotel room, one probably not as nice as mine. How cruel it was to keep us separated on our last night together.

I needed to talk to someone, to plead with whoever is in charge of the execution, to let me die instead of my father. Surely, they'd accept that, right?

Tears kept streaming down my face, they never stopped once since I arrived at the hotel. I tried to leave the room, knowing there had to be someone here at the hotel I could speak with.

But the door was locked. I was, as expected, a prisoner until the moment my father's head hits the floor in a bloody puddle of apologies to the nation.

They could all choke on these false apologies for all I cared.

Frustrated, and still breathless from sobbing, I grabbed a large ceramic vase, and slammed it down on the door's handle without thinking twice. If they want to keep me trapped here, they shouldn't have expected it to be easy

The door's handle fell off after only a few times of hitting it with the vase. It dropped to the marble floor, making a loud clattering noise, as the heavy door swung open. I exited my hotel room with a mission.

I noticed the tiny cameras on the walls, all poorly hidden as I was aware they were watching me. There were probably guards coming for me right now, so I had to be swift.

I ran down the halls of the building, corridor after corridor, it felt like a maze. Where are all the people? Where was the exit? The walls felt like they were getting smaller and smaller the longer I ran. At this point I was almost positive that I was running in circles.

I began to open random doors only because I had no other ideas on how to pursue my mission. I was running out of time, I could hear rattling, people talking, I knew they were coming for me.

I opened a door that was nearest to me, only to result in coming face-to-face with a broom closet.

I wanted to scream.

I tried to open another door -locked. Locked. Locked. Locked. Everyone I tried to get into, I ended up gripping the handles, trying to yank them off.

I began pounding on the doors, screaming at the cameras because I was hopeless, and stupid, and I had no idea on what to do next.

"Mirea?" I heard a familiar voice say in the door behind me. I turned, tears streaming down my face. Hope flared in my chest as I realized who it was.

"Dad?" That was the first true breath I had taken all day. Finally, my lungs could breathe.

I ran up to the door, pressing my body against it when the door handle wouldn't budge. Of course, it was locked. Where were his guards?

I could hear the sound of him pressing against the opposite side of the door as he spoke, "Are you alright sweetheart? Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head knowing he couldn't see me, "No they didn't hurt me. What about you, are you alright?"

There was a long, agonizing pause before he answered, "I'm fine, baby, I'm fine."

Liar.

"I'm going to get you out of here." I tell him, "I'm going to free you I promise."

Liar.