Don’t get too comfortable
803 Words
Day 46
They didn’t take me upstairs.
I was hoping they would. Every time I hear the lock click and the guards walk in, part of me hopes it’s for that. To see her. But today, they passed right by. Went for the girl in the cage across from mine instead.
She screamed the whole time. It didn’t matter.
I stayed quiet. I always do now.
Day 47
Amber whispered to me again last night.
Said the guards are more restless than usual. She heard them talking. Something about the compound being on alert. More patrols outside. More aggression inside.
She thinks her brothers are getting close. I want to believe her. I want to believe in anything at this point.
Day 48
No food again today.
It’s harder when they don’t feed the younger ones. I gave a piece of cloth from my shirt for one of the girls to chew on. Just to have something. I don’t know her name, but she’s the one with the scratch on her cheek that never heals.
She nodded at me. That was enough.
Day 49
They tortured me again.
Delnaaz brought a new toy this time. Some kind of scalpel, sharp and narrow. She cut into the same slices on my legs and laughed as she slid wolfsbane into the open wounds.
It burned. Stung. But I bit my tongue and stared at the ceiling. Carl watched. He always does.
I think he likes to see how far I’ll go before I break.
Day 50
Amber dropped food when they made her pass out trays today. The guards saw it hit the floor and demanded to know who was stealing.
I told them it was mine.
I said I took extra.
They didn’t even pause. Just dragged me out by my hair and made an example of me.
My body feels like it’s been lit on fire and stitched back together with glass.
But Amber didn’t get punished. That’s what matters.
Day 51
Today, they took me upstairs.
Blindfolded me again. I didn’t recognize the stairs, but I felt the air shift. It wasn’t as heavy, not as damp.
They led me into a room filled with children. At least a dozen, maybe more. The smallest ones huddled around two elderly women, who looked just as gaunt and haunted as the rest of us.
And then I saw her.
Ellie.
She was sitting near the corner on a thin pad, legs pulled into her chest, her curly hair tangled and wild. Her head shot up the moment I whispered her name.
“Momma?”
Her voice cracked.
I ran to her, but before I could touch her, two guards stepped in front of me. One shoved me back while the other barked something about “no physical contact.”
They let me sit across the room from her.
One hour. That’s all I had.
We talked. I tried to smile, to tell her stories, to keep her from seeing how broken I really am. But when they came to take me away, she screamed like her world was ending.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” one of the guards snarled as they dragged me back down.
I didn’t cry until the cage door shut behind me.
Day 52
Amber asked if she was okay.
I told her Ellie’s smaller. Quieter. But she’s alive.
Amber whispered, “We’re going to get her back.”
I want to believe her. I want to believe she still has hope left for both of us.
Day 53
Carl was in a mood today.
He paced in front of the cages for hours, like a predator waiting to pounce. Then he picked a girl—too young, too fragile. The one two cages up from me.
I begged him to take me instead.
He smiled and agreed.
They cut into the back of my thigh this time. Deeper than usual. Then they embedded silver in the wound. I blacked out before they finished.
Day 54
The pain won’t stop.
I can feel the silver in my leg, burning under the skin. Amber says I have to keep moving so it doesn’t get infected, but I can barely bend my knee.
They didn’t feed us again. I think they’re trying to starve us into silence.
Day 55
Something’s happening.
Guards are shouting. The lights flickered twice, then cut out completely. A siren blared for just a moment—then silence.
Then…
A howl.
Deep. Resonant. Not like the wolves here. No, this one was free.
Amber stood in her cage, shaking, tears running down her face.
“They’re here,” she whispered. “My brothers. Zander… Zavier… Zayden…”
I gripped the bars of my cage and held my breath.
For the first time in weeks, I dared to hope.
- Writer
