Raven Flight

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Friends and Felines

For once, I slept longer than the sun. At what I assumed to be about 7 o'clock, I was awoken by a young woman dressed in an old fashioned dress and apron. Dark brown hair framed her pale face and brown eyes. She was of average height and darted about in a hurried sort of way that brought out the skin pulled tight around her overly slim figure. She went about her duties tidying the room, but her eyes never really focused and if they did, it was on something only she could see. Her arms were marked with scars and she constantly looked around in fear. My curiosity grew until it got the best of me, and I decided to ask her what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” I said as soon as she turned towards me.

“Breakfast time,” she said, and a moment later I heard a bell ring in the distance. Not sure she heard me, I tried again,

“Is everything all right?” I asked, louder than last time. Without answering, she suddenly stood up from what she was doing, turned toward the door, and walked down the hall, as if she had been called. I sat on the hard, but newly-made bed and pondered what could either be wrong with her, or what circumstance could make her act like that.

Before my mind came to any conclusions, my stomach growled loudly and I remembered what she had said. Wondering what a prisoner might be served, I cautiously walked through the doorway and down the hall. The corridor's walls were bare gray stone bricks, and buzzing fluorescents were set dimly in the high ceilings. Toward the ending, the hall opened up into what could only have been a large cafeteria. Several tables with chairs surrounding them were set up with salt and pepper shakers, as well as small bins of napkins. Sweet smells wafted around the room, making my stomach ache all the more. A nice, but hard-humored older lady stood waiting for me across the room. Thin wrinkles hung from her face around her eyes and mouth, showing that she was used to smiling. Her blue eyes gazed on me, and her silvery white hair was pulled up into a tight bun, with thin wisps and strands let loose to frame her once beautiful face.

“I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up!” she said impatiently, yet showing her sharp wit. As soon as I got close enough, she pushed me into the nearest chair and shoved what looked like a bowl of slop in front of me. Hesitating, I took a smell of it, and decided it didn't smell that bad.

“Oh, come on! It may not look pretty, but it won't look pretty once it's in your stomach either, so try some!” I jumped as the voice appeared right over my shoulder, and turned around to see why she had lingered. She stared with wide eyes, leaning forward she motioned for me to eat. I was worried at her intensity, and wondered if there was some sort of drug mixed in. Though, at both her and my stomach's insistence, I took a small bite of the gruel. I couldn't help but smile as I recognized the sweet maple sugar.

“How is it?” She asked me excitably, a grin spreading on her face, awaiting my reaction like a child awaiting a gift from a beloved friend.

“Delicious!” I said without thinking, and shoved more into my open mouth right after.

“Oh good! I was so worried no one would like my cooking...” I couldn't believe it! She wasn't evil at all, but a sweet old granny. “By the way,” she said with a smile and a friendly wink as she turned to head for the kitchen, “you can call me Marge.” I smiled back at her and shared my name. In the most unlikely of places, I had found a friend and a light in the darkness.

After breakfast, I was brought to the lab for more testing. This time, for allergies. Though my brow furrowed in confusion at their direct and somewhat childish attempt at an idea, I realized that if they did discover an allergy I wasn't aware of, they would be able to make every day that I stayed there a continual torment. I sat patiently, and now somewhat worriedly in a metal chair before a large desk on which sat several vials and instruments, and couldn't help but feeling like I was at the doctor for a check-up.

“First,” a scientist said slowly, as if he was speaking to a small child, “we are going to see if you are allergic to animals.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. Just because I didn't know how to solve a complex equation didn't mean I was stupid, I was only sixteen, but I would have been glad if I was treated as if I was at least half that, instead of two. The “geniuses” brushed different animal furs against my nose to see if I would react. Though most of them were dry and had no effect, a few of them were musty and smelled like wet dog. Each time I took a deep breath, sniffed, or even gave the slightest cough, they jumped at my reaction and gave a subtle hum of anticipation. For quite awhile, each time they leaned forward in their chairs, they sighed depressingly within the minute when they realized it was a false alarm. However, as time stretched on, I began to grow uncomfortable with the continual scratch and tickle of fur against my sensitive nose. I could also tell that the scientist that was seated in front of me was growing downhearted at the wasting hours as well, as his hand began to tremble with boredom and fatigue.

It just so happened, that as the tester put the cat hair to my nose, his shivers grew in strength and caused my nose to tickle unbearably. For a few seconds I gasped and wheezed but the urge became to strong and a great sneeze erupted loudly from my nose and mouth, and strangely, the room erupted in excited gasps, and after a moment, relieved and celebrating cheers.

“At last we know what else to use against you! CATS!” One of the men exclaimed, “Who would have thought?” Another agreed, shaking his colleague's hand with glad, renewed strength. I looked around, very confused, when it dawned on me. They thought I was allergic to cats. What imbeciles to judge with such unreliable and unproved test results!

“I'm not allergic to cats!” I tried to tell them as they rushed around me making giddy preparations, but they regarded me with as little trust and confidence as they would put in a small child. A giggling white-coat rushed up behind me with a long piece of dark material hanging from his grip, and I couldn't believe that they were judging me to be the one with the lowest IQ. He quickly tied the blind fold roughly around my eyes, barely ensuring that it was secured properly, and pushed me down the hall, through a doorway, and into a room where I was positive I heard multiple meows. Before I could even ask what was going on, he took off the blindfold and dashed out of the room, which he then locked quickly with a loud 'click' from the outside.

In front of me stretched a room filled with what seemed to be almost every breed of cat known to man. I smiled and rolled my eyes, who could find all these cuddly cats to be a threat? Knowing I'd be blowing the simple minds of most of the observers(wherever they were hiding), I picked up a nearby cat, this one being a beautiful long-haired calico and stroked it's silky fur. Seeing me giving attention to one of them, more cats flocked to me, all the while winding their tails around my legs. I giggled and picked them up one by one, trying to pet on each of them. All shapes and colors of the well-groomed creatures asked beggingly for attention, and I suspected that no one had given them any before me. As I stooped to pick up an impressively cute orange tabby kitten with large bright eyes, one of the smarter of the large group of scientists(evidently not the giggling buffoon who had escorted me to this room) unlocked the door and trudged in, disappointment evident on his drooping face.

“You're not allergic to cats,” He said plainly, seeing the other people's mistakes and bringing it into the open, as if saying it out loud would erase some of the sting.

“I'm not allergic to cats,” I agreed with a grin and a knowing roll of my eyes. With no explanation, he took me back to my room, him dragging his feet like weights were attached to his shoes, me with a laugh and a skip in my step.

“We'll call you for Dinner,” he said gloomily as he left the room. I could hear his slow and thoughtfully upset steps trudging down the hallway with an echo.

“I'll be here,” I replied happily, even though I knew he was already far gone through the tunnels. I smiled to myself, still amused at how the day was going. I had made myself a friend for breakfast, and cuddled with cats the rest of the day. At the moment, I didn't care if I was living in captivity or not, that day had been the best day I had encountered in quite awhile. I laid down on my bed, blankets and pillows having been recently added to the bland cell(I was no longer needing to be chained to the bed, luckily), and decided to day dream the rest of the afternoon away. My mind soared through bright pink and orange clouds, emblazoned with drops of pure sunlight, eating bowls full Marge's expertly made maple syrup oatmeal. I couldn't wait for Dinner so that I would be able to tell Marge how great the rest of the day had been, and to see what delicious masterpiece she would set before me for my evening meal.