The Cure

XIV

Well, this is just great; locked here in a cold damp cell, alone. They wouldn't let me stay with Griffin. Maycroft said something along the lines of, "wouldn't want you two planning any escape or more escapades after your release, hm?" The way he talks of our release, as if he knows it's extremely unlikely, makes me feel worse about what's happened.

But really, I have no reasons to be afraid. They have nothing against us. I know we didn't steal anything, but I'm still oddly frightened. I suppose we did actually break into the Mr. Potts warehouse, so that does kind of count fro something.

I'm glad I still have my warm clothes on. This place is freezing. It's cold enough outside, but underground in a steel cellar isn't making things worse. They must freeze the truth out of people and reward them with an extra cup of lukewarm water. How generous. 

My cell isn't even on the same level as Griffin's but another floor above. I wonder if he can hear my footsteps pacing around above his head, making him jittery. I consider whether Griffin's as nervous as I am and guess he probably is, but for other reasons. 

I understand now why they even brought me down here, to his cell. There's no way they would've done that unless they planned on sustaining me too. I feel ignorant and defeated, outplayed. 

An identical blue light like the one from Griffin's cell flickers above my head. Ever since they put me in here I've been eyeing it nervously, waiting for it to go out; for the coming darkness enveloping me in its night like grasp. I notice also several ants crawling along the left wall and keep my mind active by speculating how they got in here. I begin to feel drowsy, pulled to the floor by my tired legs and drooping eyes. I let my self slump over and blow hot air on my hands, thinking over and over of blood in Griffin's hair, dirt in the warehouse and things in my possession that they could possibly find to hold against me.

*

Awaking to the unbolting of a huge, metal cell door is a frightening sound to wake out of respite from. I stand up hurriedly and press my back against the farthest wall and watch as my door swings open to reveal Maycroft with a pleasantly morbid smile on his face. I brace myself for the worse.

"I see little moons under your eyes, dear. Get enough of a nap in here while I was gone?" This conversation is so petty it makes me want to gag. When I don't reply he continues, "Well, it doesn't matter I suppose, considering you'll get plenty of time to sleep when your dead." 

I let my eyes go wide but keep my mouth closed. 

"Since when have you taken up gardening, must I ask?"

"G-gardening?" I finally sputter, unable to keep silent any longer. "I don't know...what?"

"You really are good at acting ignorant, but you've said yourself, you know more than you let on. I just never really guessed it was in this area."

"I still don't know-"

"Oh please," Maycroft swivels around at me. "I'm tired of this game you're playing at. Tell me what you planned to do with it!"

"Planned to do with what?"

One spin on his heels and Maycroft sends the back of his hand flying into my face with a loud crack! I grab the side of my head and my knees buckle underneath me. Rage courses through my body as I think of Griffin and the blood in his hair; scars and cuts across his body. I stand back up, hand still against my face and snarl, animal like, at Maycroft's back.

"The plant," he spits.

Then I feel like I've been hit hard in the gut as I try to swallow his words, but find I can only cough them back up again. Of all the things I imagined he would say, this is not it.