Seized

Chapter One - Nightmares

Alexandria Pryor woke to the rustle of a pea-shuck mattress. She’d been having a strange dream, a nightmare . . . she reached for the warmth and comfort of her older sister, Ida, but found only the rough surface of the pallet where Ida should have been.

                “Another bad dream?” came Ida’s voice from behind. Alexandria rose into a sitting position and found her only sibling still in her nightdress and staring out the small, grimy window pane. “You kept kicking in your sleep.”

                “Sorry,” Alexandria muttered, peeling her own sweat-soaked cotton nightdress over her head. The material was worn and thin between her fingers, yet another reminder of their poverty and the sort of day that lie ahead. “Ida –”

                “I know,” Ida said quietly, staring down at her bare, unkempt feet. “You’ve been having doubts.”

                “How did you –”

                “Because I’ve been having them, too.” She turned around to face Alexandria, watching as she pulled her finest dress on over her head. “But it’s the only way.”

                “Are you positive?” Alexandria insisted as she tried to plait her dark tresses. “Surely we could manage – perhaps if we cut back a bit more and –”

                “Here, let me,” Ida said kindly, starting to undo the tangled mess that was Alexandria’s hair. “And what do you think we’ve been doing all this time? If we cut back any more, we’ll starve to death. There’s nothing else we can do.”

                Alexandria heaved a sigh as Ida began to braid her hair with a feather-light touch. “But still, I just feel so . . . guilty, and scared. What if something goes wrong, Ida? You’ve heard what it’s like inside the penitentiary! The people in there never see the light of day! And what would Father do without us –” But then she stopped abruptly, for Ida had finished the plait and whirled her around so that they were face to face.

                “Alexandria Marie, you listen to me.” Ida did not smile at the accidental rhyme, letting Alexandria know that she meant business. “It is because of Father that we have to do this. Father, in his poor health . . . he will die without nourishment. We all will. If there was another way, then we would have discovered it, but there isn’t. It is life or death.” She spoke the last word so harshly that flecks of spittle hit Alexandria’s face, and the full force of what she was saying came crashing down on Alexandria like a ton of bricks.

                 “Alexandria,” Ida said, and her tone was softer now, sweeter, though it had not lost its firmness. She cupped Alexandria’s chin, forcing Alexandria to meet her gaze. Alexandria could see in Ida’s eyes the same fear and pain that she was sure must be in her own, but there was something in Ida’s eyes that Alexandria didn’t have – determination. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”

                “A-and if it isn’t?”

                “Alex –”

                “If it isn’t, Ida?”

She sighed. “Then . . . I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She smiled for the first time since the start of the conversation. “Now let’s go see if we can’t find a ribbon to put in your hair.”

Twenty minutes later, Alexandria was strolling along the dusty path, taking great care to avoid getting dirt on her good boots. It was important that she looked perfect, that she looked neat, that she looked like the sort of person that would never do what she was about to do.