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“Hey.”
She looked up. The voice was back. In her head, but also real, out there. She could hear it faintly through the walls.
“Hello?”
“You’re sad.”
“How do you know?”
“I can feel you.” A pause. “Can you feel me too?”
And she could. She could feel energy, hunger and something else.
“How?”
“We’re the same. Me and you.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I know what you are. And I know they’re afraid of you. That’s why they keep you locked up. Humans are always afraid of what they can’t understand.”
“It’s to protect me.”
“From what?”
A pause. She couldn’t answer.
“How long have you been here?”
She swallowed. Normally she tried not to remember. Because thinking about time was like opening a dam. It would pour out in a relentless torrent of days, months, years and decades.
“A long while,” she said.
“Years, decades…longer?”
She nodded, and he seemed to know she had confirmed the latter.
“Don’t you hate them?”
“Sometimes.” It felt good to say it. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Then let me help you.”
“How?”
“I can get you out.”
“I’m chained up. They found out I was trying to get out of the window. It’s going to be fixed up.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Soon.”
“Okay, then we’ll have to find another way.”
“Why do you even want to help me?”
“Because you’re one of us. Now listen.”
