Prisoner Thirty-One

Feather: I was tired too

Warning: This chapter contains semi-graphic scenes of sexual assault

That night's dream was unimportant, but I was starting to love unimportant dreams, so I wasn't complaining.

Kyra had told me the day before that I would be collected in the morning and yet somehow, I managed to wake up after everyone had left, get ready and still had time to wait around for a bit. But in a way I was used to feeling pretty abandoned so what was a few more hours.

Initially I decided to check out Joe and Kimba's rooms assuming that they wouldn't mind to much. Kimba's was much the same as Mine and Alec's, but Joe's had a carved-out window and a dirty but functional length long mirror on one wall. I made a note to myself to talk to Joe about his sneaky room choice later.

Hesitantly, I moved to stand in front of the mirror. It was stained a slightly brown colour and had a few cracks and dirt marks across the surface but other then that it was functional. I hate to be that person but for some reason the view of myself in that mirror disappointed me. I was still small and young looking. My hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, was still a dusty blond colour. Besides from looking a bit leaner and having better fashion sense, I still looked the same as I had before I went to school that morning in Torrents. I wasn't expecting to look taller or to have suddenly sprouted blue hair, but I wanted something, something to represent everything that had happened to me before I had gotten there.

Then I remembered. I took off my jacket and rolled up the long sleeves of my favourite black top, which I was once again wearing over a pair of shorts. I traced my finger along the red line where the barbed wire had cut me all those weeks ago. As I did this, I watched the small girl in the mirror trace hers as well. I then turned around slowly and rolled up my top so that it was sitting just below my shoulder blades. Taking in a deep breath, I turned my head over my shoulders.

At the sight of my back I froze. I was used to the small curving scar at the top of my hips, which had mostly faded by now anyway, but I hadn't fully prepared myself for the rest. I guessed it was my own fault for wanting to see change and all. That thought made me laugh slightly but the movement only made the sight in the mirror look worse.

My first thought was for the others who had to see the wreck that was my back before Joe had tried to stitch it back together. I had stopped taking medicine for the wounds a few days ago and in a way wasn't too bothered by the slight throbbing across them. I guess in a way, like the jacket, just being alive then was another kick in Melcome's face.

I moved my arm to touch the nearest cross like scar and winced as my finger came in contact with the raised bump. It was less to do with pain and more because of how alien the mark felt. Sighing, I moved my top down so that the girl in the mirror didn't need to look at them anymore. I was proud I had survived, and the marks were a sign of that, I guess in a way the only badge of honour I would ever receive. I just had to get used to them, that was all.

The knock came as I was lying on my back trying to keep my opened water bottle hovering above my head. I had worked out in the medical room that this was a good way to practice my curse control as if I messed up, I ended covered in cold water. Plus, Wyren had found the whole thing very amusing to watch.

The man stood at the door was lean, with jet black hair and a tanned skin tone, probably making him one of the lightest skin tones there, you know before we arrived. He was slightly taller than me and leaned on the door frame as I answered the door. "I didn't know you Curst chicks could be so pretty." I frowned deeply at him, wondering how someone could offend me so much in such a small space of time. "Yeah you're less pretty when you frown, I wouldn't do that so much if I were you."