A memory...
It had been only a month or so--time had began to unwravle and blend into itself after even a short time at being at this place-- but it felt like it had been years in this prison, so much so that when I looked in the mirror for the first time since I had been taken, I was surprised to see the same child staring back at me that had been there back when that child had been happy. I expected to see myself nearly grown by now, some young adult in her later teenage years, rather than the scrawny 11yr old that still remained. The only thing that was different was how dirty this girl was in front of me; ragged hair that fell in clumps of brown, tangled and unwashed, down to her mid-back. Her skin was brown with caked-on dirt and a bit of scrapes on her youthful cheeks gave the smallest color to them, where-as before it was the sun's warm glow that had that job. The girl's clothes were another addition to her peasent-like appearance: tatterd, patched, and colorless.
There was something that hadn't faded yet, however: her green eyes still holding a child's innocence and luster, despite her surroundings and her treatment at that facility. I was surprised to see these sorts of eyes staring back at me.
"Let's go." Says a faceless guard on the left side of me.
He is holding my hand sternly so I cannot squirrel away, though I am sure that if I ever managed to get away he would be on me in a heart beat. Even so, if I did escape, there was nowhere I knew to run to. The location of my prison was kept a secret from me, as was the way out. I never travelled outside of my cell but for special reasons, and even then I was never taken by any exit I could recognize. Any reason to run was a fruitless endeavor, and the sooner I accepted that, the sooner I could cease fretting over it.
The guard took me to a new room, there were so many still to become acquainted with, filled with white walls, a white couch, and a black room divider. There was but one light on the ceiling however so small a room didn't need more to brighten up. A woman stood in front of the couch, facing the door with some cloth hanging over her arm. She wore her brunette hair up in a tight bun and held a stern look, emotionless in all other aspects. She held out a hand to me, and before I had known the guard had let go, he gave a small shove to me towards the woman.
"Please gift us the courtesy of privacy." the woman said to the guard.
The guard left and the woman was reached in my small steps. I hadn't met many woman here, only men in white coats and various guards whenever I was taken from place to place or given the occassional meal. The woman took my hand and lead me to a door at the right side of the room I hadn't noticed upon my arrival, and revealed a small bathroom. I got a bath for the first time in months. Or one month.
Who knew, really.
It had been so long that I was actually happy. I laughed in the water, wished to play a bit, but the woman had us on a tight schedule. She did my hair, taking a long time to painfully comb out all of my tangles and style it how she wanted. The cloth she had been holding onto was a lovely white dress with a blue bow to be tied behind. I even was able to wear matching tights and shoes. I felt back at home with my mother for a small time, even if the woman showed me no emotion aside from a work assignment she had.
It wasn't long after I had completed my 'make-over' that we departed the room. The guard who had previously been my escort remained, though did not grab my hand this time. Instead it belonged to the tight-lipped woman on her way to finish her mission and head off to whatever avenue was to next befall her. The next room would not be as cheerful, more-or-less, as had been the last. It was a large rectangular room with a window taking up one entire wall, looking out to another room with five young children all standing against their room's wall. They looked confused and frightened, some crying while others stayed silent in their unfamiliar trap.
I hadn't thought it to believe they had been recently taken from their homes as I had, and instead wondered what they had to do with my presence. They weren't dressed in the traditional rags that were given upon imprisonment, so it was with all logic that they were fresh. I was lead to a seat in a chair too big for me to sit next to an unfamiliar man dressed all in black. I couldn't see his face very well, the room and my memory each too dim for it, only that at first he seemed rather nice. He gave a smile, his eyes behind glasses, and shook my little hand as he greeted me.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Ana." He said.
He offered a cookie to me, which I gladly took in gratitude. He made a quaint laugh and petted me atop my head before turning both of our attentions to the children on the other side of the window.
"I want you to look at these children, Ana, and pick out which one is your favorite." He said in a calm voice, one an official would typically use when instructing children.
If I had had any idea what picking my favorite really meant, I would have stayed silent. As I looked upon the children, I sympathised with them. There were three girls and two boys before me to choose from, though how I was supposed to pick a favorite was not really known to me. I watched each of the children, those that cried and those that just looked about without a steady stream of thoughts to save them. I watched one girl look to the others, emotional pain over her face, and maybe even a secret knowing. Her cheaks were stained with dried tears, her eyes red and puffy, and she looked as though she were about to burst into tears just then.
But they were held back. I could tell that much. She wanted to be brave without knowing why. The man noticed me looking at her,
It had been only a month or so--time had began to unwravle and blend into itself after even a short time at being at this place-- but it felt like it had been years in this prison, so much so that when I looked in the mirror for the first time since I had been taken, I was surprised to see the same child staring back at me that had been there back when that child had been happy. I expected to see myself nearly grown by now, some young adult in her later teenage years, rather than the scrawny 11yr old that still remained. The only thing that was different was how dirty this girl was in front of me; ragged hair that fell in clumps of brown, tangled and unwashed, down to her mid-back. Her skin was brown with caked-on dirt and a bit of scrapes on her youthful cheeks gave the smallest color to them, where-as before it was the sun's warm glow that had that job. The girl's clothes were another addition to her peasent-like appearance: tatterd, patched, and colorless.
There was something that hadn't faded yet, however: her green eyes still holding a child's innocence and luster, despite her surroundings and her treatment at that facility. I was surprised to see these sorts of eyes staring back at me.
"Let's go." Says a faceless guard on the left side of me.
He is holding my hand sternly so I cannot squirrel away, though I am sure that if I ever managed to get away he would be on me in a heart beat. Even so, if I did escape, there was nowhere I knew to run to. The location of my prison was kept a secret from me, as was the way out. I never travelled outside of my cell but for special reasons, and even then I was never taken by any exit I could recognize. Any reason to run was a fruitless endeavor, and the sooner I accepted that, the sooner I could cease fretting over it.
The guard took me to a new room, there were so many still to become acquainted with, filled with white walls, a white couch, and a black room divider. There was but one light on the ceiling however so small a room didn't need more to brighten up. A woman stood in front of the couch, facing the door with some cloth hanging over her arm. She wore her brunette hair up in a tight bun and held a stern look, emotionless in all other aspects. She held out a hand to me, and before I had known the guard had let go, he gave a small shove to me towards the woman.
"Please gift us the courtesy of privacy." the woman said to the guard.
The guard left and the woman was reached in my small steps. I hadn't met many woman here, only men in white coats and various guards whenever I was taken from place to place or given the occassional meal. The woman took my hand and lead me to a door at the right side of the room I hadn't noticed upon my arrival, and revealed a small bathroom. I got a bath for the first time in months. Or one month.
Who knew, really.
It had been so long that I was actually happy. I laughed in the water, wished to play a bit, but the woman had us on a tight schedule. She did my hair, taking a long time to painfully comb out all of my tangles and style it how she wanted. The cloth she had been holding onto was a lovely white dress with a blue bow to be tied behind. I even was able to wear matching tights and shoes. I felt back at home with my mother for a small time, even if the woman showed me no emotion aside from a work assignment she had.
It wasn't long after I had completed my 'make-over' that we departed the room. The guard who had previously been my escort remained, though did not grab my hand this time. Instead it belonged to the tight-lipped woman on her way to finish her mission and head off to whatever avenue was to next befall her. The next room would not be as cheerful, more-or-less, as had been the last. It was a large rectangular room with a window taking up one entire wall, looking out to another room with five young children all standing against their room's wall. They looked confused and frightened, some crying while others stayed silent in their unfamiliar trap.
I hadn't thought it to believe they had been recently taken from their homes as I had, and instead wondered what they had to do with my presence. They weren't dressed in the traditional rags that were given upon imprisonment, so it was with all logic that they were fresh. I was lead to a seat in a chair too big for me to sit next to an unfamiliar man dressed all in black. I couldn't see his face very well, the room and my memory each too dim for it, only that at first he seemed rather nice. He gave a smile, his eyes behind glasses, and shook my little hand as he greeted me.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Ana." He said.
He offered a cookie to me, which I gladly took in gratitude. He made a quaint laugh and petted me atop my head before turning both of our attentions to the children on the other side of the window.
"I want you to look at these children, Ana, and pick out which one is your favorite." He said in a calm voice, one an official would typically use when instructing children.
If I had had any idea what picking my favorite really meant, I would have stayed silent. As I looked upon the children, I sympathised with them. There were three girls and two boys before me to choose from, though how I was supposed to pick a favorite was not really known to me. I watched each of the children, those that cried and those that just looked about without a steady stream of thoughts to save them. I watched one girl look to the others, emotional pain over her face, and maybe even a secret knowing. Her cheaks were stained with dried tears, her eyes red and puffy, and she looked as though she were about to burst into tears just then.
But they were held back. I could tell that much. She wanted to be brave without knowing why. The man noticed me looking at her,
