Time Will Tell [Complete]

Chapter Eighteen

Lizzy wrapped a blanket around herself from the small pile of them in the corner. A cool breeze had found it's way through the window and leaning against the damp wall wasn't helping her conserve body heat, and even though the blanket was a little wet as well, it was better than nothing. She had moved several times, but it seemed like the leak had invaded each and every corner. She was almost desperate enough to try and find where the water was coming from but she didn't think she wanted to know – if worse came to worst, she might have to find some way to collect the water that had soaked into the blankets, or catch it before it absorbed into the walls. Although Lizzy hoped it didn't come to that, she would do what she had to do to survive.

"I really, really hope it doesn't come to that," she muttered.

* * *

It had been approximately two hours since she had wrapped herself in a blanket. She had almost dozed off but then a scratching inside the wall nearby had jerked her out of her half-asleep frame of mind. She thumped on the wall and the scratching stopped.

Mice.

They seemed to leave fairly quickly, as there were most likely many other walls for them to inhabit, but at this point Lizzy was too wide awake to take a nap. Or any semblance of one.

So, she paced.

Lizzy thought through the situation she was in thoroughly. A room she couldn't find a way out of. No food, no water. A small window to let in the light, the air and nothing else. A few damp blankets in the corner. One abandoned on the ground behind her. She turned in her pacing, and now the blanket was in front of her. Behind her. In front.

She stopped pacing and moved to the window once more. It was bright and sunny outside. What little clouds there were outside were full and fluffy, the very opposite of what she felt inside. Which was empty.

Empty and drained. She couldn't win now, it would be a miracle if she even got out of here alive. If she could fit through the window, even though it wouldn't be wide enough for her shoulders to squeeze through, she would fall to her death. The stone on the outside was smooth, with barely a crack, so climbing to the roof was out, and how would she get down after?

All Lizzy could do was wait.

She stared out the window, not observing the passage of time, the people coming and going on the ground below. She watched the distant trees move in the slight wind, looking but not really seeing. It was too early to give up, she knew. They were so close. But her heart was so heavy, yet she felt so empty, and she was sure couldn't go on. She also felt she was being melodramatic. She also thought she had earned some time to lose hope. Most likely the feeling would soon pass. It was pointless, really; she wished she could give up. But she realized she couldn't. There was too much relying on her. Lizzy sighed.

There was a sudden nose behind her, strangely akin to rock scraping against wood. Lizzy jumped, moving away from the window before whirling around so as not to bump into the sill.

She surveyed the room, but nothing seemed changed. The boring room was, strangely enough, still boring. Then the noise came again, and Lizzy noticed a small section of the floor doing something odd. At first she thought the floor was moving of it's own accord, then she realized it was only a small section of it that had shifted and realized what it must be.

"Aha," she murmured. "a trapdoor. I was right."

She smiled, then frowned. If it was moving, that meant someone was trying to get in. It meant that someone was either trying to hurt her, trying to free her, or completely lost. Unless they were bringing food and water, in which case, Lizzy would welcome them with open arms. She was dying of thirst. It had been almost two full days since she had last had a drink and she almost felt like she was going crazy. Delirious. Insane. That would make her hopeless thoughts make more sense, at least. Although anything making sense at this point was a distant memory, even a dream. Which was ironic since dreams usually make the least sense out of anything.