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My gaze looks around as I realize there is nowhere to shower.
Scoffing, I say to myself, “Like the beast would give a shit about my hygiene.”
I lay back on the bed and rest my head on the flat pillow, inhaling Mom’s scent that is all over it. The warm vanilla spice is familiar but foreign at the same time.
Mom used to make her shampoo and soap. She would buy the ingredients in the market and bring them back home where I would sit on top of the counter and help mix it all together.
My feet would hang off the edge of the countertop as I watched in amazement as Mom would add the vanilla beans one by one into the simmering pot.
When I was a little older, Mom would let me stand on the makeshift stool and help stir it.
Those are the last memories I have of her. We could have had years to make even more memories, but the beast stole that opportunity from me- stole her from me.
My breathing gets deeper and faster as I remember how cold and frail Mom was.
“If I ever get out of this place, I promise I will get revenge.” My jaw clenches as I stand up, my hands balling into tight fists.
My anger quickly dissipates as a cold breeze blows through the cell.
Where is it coming from? There isn’t an open window here.
Flopping on the small bed, a sigh escapes. “I wish I had a deck of cards or a really big book right about now.”
After all, I have all the time in the world right now and can use the distraction.
I can already tell that I am going to be bored just sitting and laying around here all the time. I need to find a way to pass the time.
Looking up at the ceiling, I begin to count the stone bricks.
One. Two. Three.
A noise from downstairs causes me to stop counting and sit up. My feet are moving before I can register where I am going.
My body leans against the door as I try to decipher what is going on down there.
The noise immediately stops.
“Just my luck.”
I resume my position on the bed, staring up at the ceiling to count the bricks. Slowly, I count the bricks, but end up losing my place when my gaze gets towards the darkened corner despite being able to see all around.
Huffing, I change my focus to something more beneficial. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing.
Meditation is supposed to relax the body and free the mind. At least that’s what Ed always says.
I breathe in and out and let the worry leave with each exhale until I am completely worry-free.
It doesn’t take as long as I expected it to. I stretch my shoulders and neck, surprised that Ed was right about meditating and its benefits.
My gaze darts to the window where giant fluffy snowflakes are slowly drifting to the cold barren earth.
The sight is beautiful. Almost breathtaking.
Except I am locked up in a tower, a prisoner for life, and wearing summer clothes.
Another cold breeze freezes me to my core. I should have worn warmer clothes. Although, never in a million years would I have guessed that I would be rescuing Dad in a snow storm today.
Worry begins to seep in as I nibble on my lower lip. The temperature is only going to drop the later it becomes. I have a thin cover to keep me warm, but I doubt it will be enough.
