The Rainy Day - chapter 1

October 12, 2009
By MissyMae GOLD, Wigan, Other
MissyMae GOLD, Wigan, Other
19 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Faith is taking the first step when you don't see the whole staircase. - Martin Luther King Jr.

Chapter 1
The pitter patter on the roof was the only sound breaking the eerie silence. Sight seemed like a luxury to me. The room in which I sat was completely black – so black, I was unable to see my own hand before my eyes. The only light source came from what I expected was a dim oil lamp under the base of probably a door. Shadows flickered across my only light source, making me frustrated. With nothing to occupy my mind, nothing for me to focus on, all the pessimistic thoughts came flooding into my head. Hope disappeared along with the light. Without hope I was helpless. I was helpless along with the fact I was in pain. The wood on which I sat was hard and grainy, like it had come from the bark of an oak tree. Wherever it came from it was no fur carpet. My feet where heavy; I could barely drag them across the floor. Thick steel chains where enclosed around my ankles. They were tight, so tight I could feel the open wound where the chains had rubbed away at my skin. The thought of dried blood stuck on my feet was disgusting. I prayed for someone to come and rescue me from this black hell. My sense of time had diminished. Not that it mattered. Not knowing how long I had been in this captivity seems more like a bonus to be honest. Through all of those…………. Unknown hours (shall we call them) I never once thought of trying to get out. Not that I could even if I tried. The darkness made it impossible to determine which was up never mind to actually stand up. For all I knew the light my soul clung onto could be way above me. In a way I think I – not liked, but didn’t mind the feeling of vulnerability. I tried not to remember though oh so distant memories. The memories that used to singe my heart every time they even flickered into my chain of thought. The precious memories of my family. The memories of my friends and my normal, hectic life. I tried my best to keep these memories yet not focus on them. It was much too painful. A tear trickled down my cheek. I could feel its wet coldness on my cheek. It felt so pitiful. It slid down my face and onto my dry lips. The salt tingled on my tongue as I ran it over my lip. Even though it was only a drop of water I would feel the strain in my stomach. For all the time I have been here I have not had a single thing to eat or drink. Not one single thing. They knew. They knew I was different. It clicked. They/he/she/it knew I wasn’t like every other human. How did they find out? I had never told anyone but………. No he wouldn’t. Would he?

At aged 15 I knew that my life was not one of a normal teenager. My 15th birthday was, in its simplest form a very big disaster. Just that one day; that was all it took for me to realize. I stayed up all that night watching the hands of the clock chase each other around the face like a dog chasing its tail. It was quite bemusing. People say doing nothing is boring, but I say that when you have a life of urgency and pressure a little time of peace is the perfect thing. Looking back I think it was at that moment I realized I was different, I just knew I wasn’t average. I knew I had a destiny.

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