Four walls, a cage moulded by her character, shaped by her restless mind, toned by her relentless cruelty, it's essence bared a sickening similarity to BlackCap's persona, the one who had kidnapped us.
We all, just some kids of the Aworth town's only orphanage. The orphanage, which was cramped with far too many children overpopulating the space available. And yet another sheep who'd lost it's owner would come crawling into this no-name space, to contribute an addition to our listless lives. It is the only orphanage to actually have the ability to get into the book of Guinness world records for having the weirdest name- "THE" Orphanage... If we had ever applied for it. And what is it that has brought us here? It's dark and moving, a vehicle, a truck perhaps, going by the size and population. Powerless as we always were, it was the first time, that day was when we'd realised that we were merely sheeps, and it never troubles the wolf how many sheeps there maybe for in it's eyes we are subjugated sacrifices.
The car screeched to rest, signaling our arrival at the den. We're all forcefully pushed out, endless revolting, screaming and scratching, all in vain as we all, blindfolded and hurt walk in the shadow of those who lead us.
A sharp scent of incense welcomed us, as we were ordered to take of our blindfolds. The scent embosoming us in opulent fumes that harassed our eyelids, naturally drawing thoughts and focus on it's source upon the dusty old-looking table propped against the wall, on the opposite end of the space from the entrance.
Above the tiny table(the size of which appeared even smaller, in the large room), a chromatic dance of red shades, blood red decorated the cobalt-tinted wall: a wide number of psychedelic posters(about drugs), adorned with pictures of death and suffering, and paintings of money, depicted the inner that characterized the boss and outlined their desire for materialism through murder.
A timid, bluish, pale light peeped from a window to our left, and it almost instantly blended with the minuscule lighting that was barely keeping the room awake, coming from the tiny and cheap five-dollar lights tingling and hanging from the ceiling.s
Slightly to the left of the table, a chain of soldierlike men, muscled and vicious, ready to take orders from the superior, the lady in an ugly green dress sitting on the chair. The revolting looks on her face, of disgust, yet happiness, blew arrows into our eyes.
"The BlackCap!! It's her. A small kid screamed as two others next to him tried to block his mouth, in an attempt to take back what could now never be unheard.
"That's right, at least one of you recognizes me!"
Hah! she sighed and smirked at the same time.
Only one?
We all knew of her, who wouldn't?
OF THE MOST WANTED CRIMINAL!
The stern look on their faces scared me, the silence was even more haunting as they looked ready to kill if that was what they were asked to do.
A thud from behind our shoulders distracted us all from the observation; a girl who was also kidnapped, yet the first of hers I'd seen, walked forwards towards the table with the burning incense and knocked it over screaming "IT BURNS!!!!!!!You-you're a witch, let us go!" for the next one minute, which was enough for us to know about her disability.
The candle, on the ground with an abandoned look, still burning, rushed, its flames into the rugs hanging on the windows. The languid flames, a supple orange, mixed with the bluish grey moonlight, it was languid(weak) only in looks, didn't struggle to stay alive in the pathetically plaid curtains, but spread faster than lightning, like a wild man running bonkers through a field! It was the beginning of the end for the block when a lethal blaze started in that part of the room which had some dangerous-looking liquids. All of us ran away towards the entrance, which remained locked till the very end. By then, the flames had engulfed us, yet we continued to strive for an exit. I couldn't move, my legs as if held back with dead loads, an attempt to walk, a step backward, was a mistake. My leg felt a touch, I slid my foot ahead and jerked backward to see what it was.
A SHIVER RAN DOWN MY SPINE.
"SHIT"
I scrambled backward, trying my best to keep myself from screaming as my eyes locked into the lifeless stare of the body in front of me. I bit my hands, trembling, mustering everything I had inside to control my sobbing. I didn't have time for that! It was her, the weird girl, who was spounting "IT BURNS" in front of the greatest criminal like it was nothing. She didn't move. Her eyes, with tears, stared into mine. My face turned pale, it's reflection on the window made me look less human, I felt like puking, but I had to run, save me and the others! Atleast as many as I could!
I decided to look for BlackCap, thought following her might lead us out.
But she was nowhere to be seen! That witch! She kidnapped us for her own benefit and now that her life is in danger, she ran away?
Instead of that girl, her body would have made a better corpse! But after all, life and death are both unfair. Scoff. I made a disgusted face, but had to brush away my heart, hold in my emotions, and go on. My eyes, still irritated from the smoke, shut close when met with a bright blue light.
THE WINDOW!
"It was open!" I screamed my lungs out! It wasn't time for me to care about my voice, even though it was important, especially important to a singer. But, right now, it was more important to get out of there.
I climbed over the window, ready to jump from the 2nd floor. Madness, I knew it was, but was I left with a choice? Broken bones or losing life. I knew which one to make!
But before I could, the main door thrashed open, the door had a huge bent in it, which could have been made by only superhumans.
"A firefighter!" The same young boy screamed, but this time, the others did too. The ceiling collapsed on our heads.
...
In utter dread, I jerk open my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. Whenever I close my eyes, I awake to another reality, the same story, the same cliche, the memories of that incident.
Am I alive?
Where am I?
It all comes back to me, the death of my parents, the orphanage, the kidnapping, the BlackCap, and her death. Everything but the only pattern that remains unfamiliar is the ceiling I woke up to. I knew it wasn't the hospital. There's only one in town, and I've been there a few times, more than a few times, and this is not how the ceiling looks. The door opens and shuts with a small thud.
A sweet and gentle voice echoes through the room,
"Are you feeling better now?" it asked me. I felt a familiar ache. It felt like my mother's voice. The same calm tone. I hated to admit it, but I did miss them.
I turn my head towards her, slowly, my hand moving to clear the band-aids weakly done over my head in an attempt to see who it was. Blue eyes, dark lashes and well defined features, lines on her forehead out of worry a kind smile painted with concern. It was the definition of a mother. She must have watched over me after the incident, I was grateful, but I didn't know who she was and neither did I have any way to thank her. She helped me sit straight up on the bed.
I looked around, the room was pleasant and had a sweet smell. The room was as the rooms of most creatives are... an eclectic chaos that told a story of talents and obsessions, a feminine mosaic of chaos which hinted it was a girl's room. It was my first time being in one. I hushed my thoughts. That wasn't the right time to look at the stuff toys, the paintings and the photos.
The photos?
THE PHOTO!!! It was her! The weird girl! Was this lady her mother?
She indeed was, the distraught look on her face said it all.
She watched me as my face stiffened, she gave me a smile, even though I knew that her expression was just an escape in the face of the inevitable.
"Life's unfair, isn't it?" She questioned.
"So is death," I replied, knowing it should have been that witch who should have died instead and not her.
"She was autistic, but kind. She tagged along with us to the orphanage as we went to make some donations. She was curious about how she could help, despite herself being the one who needed it." She remarked as tears rolled down her face.
"She was brave, she cussed the criminal on her face!"
"Haha that girl!" She laughed quite a bit. It was a good sight. "She was, indeed. But now that I look at her, bedridden, in coma, not sure if she'll wake up, she looks weak. It troubles me."
"Wait a second auntie, did you say coma?" I was shocked, I was sure she'd died but she was alive! I felt happy, but that joy didn't last long. Her mother's expression of sorrow didn't change, not one bit.
Was becoming a living unresponsive mannequin actually better than death? I didn't know and probably I would never.
The misery of life, 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlW1a0cuBt7
Sunken ships still sail alive, 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk2ghnclh78
Deaths of sailers bare no boon, 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Pd5UbkhWC
What's the point in life, I've never seen no moon. 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡruFlM2T1sE
A depressed soul, 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcQxb7oVfuX
Deprived of joy, 315Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkHDjQNY90v
Another caged bird, Life and death, this game's decoy.
