Status: very, very much incomplete
Throwing Shadows
the birds they circle
When the woman awakens, she’s in a bed that feels as though the slightest movement will send her straight down to the floor. The woman is groggy- ears and feet pounding hard. A dull pain that makes her groans and then stop instantly- her throat too dry to complain. She finally hoists herself up on her elbows trying to adjust her eyes. The room is fairly bright with the sun coming in high through the slits and moth eaten bits in the curtain.
It’s noon.
Knowing it’s noon would put her in an excellent position if she actually knew what day it was. Or month, for that matter. There’s a slight smell of oil and something she can’t quite put her finger on until she looks down and notices her feet. That iron stench bellowing up. Blood.
Her breathing fastens and suddenly she’s trying her hardest not to panic. She notices movement and glances up to the far corner of the room. Two men, one incredibly large and sullen; the other not quite as big but twice as angry.
No, the look in his eyes isn’t anger. Annoyance, perhaps?
The woman thinks at this point she should win a medal for not screaming. She draws her knees to her chest. Suddenly, swiftly, the larger man stands and walks over to her. The woman closes her eyes.
When she opens them, the man is giving her a questioning look and holding a bottle of water out to her. She eyes the other man in the corner and he nods for her to take the drink. The larger mans eyes turn from questions to compassion as the woman reaches out. There are bruises and cuts down the length of her arm. She quickly grabs the bottle and brings it to her lips, downing it as fast as she can, like a fish whose been released back into water. She looks back up at the men. They’re both staring hard at her, confusion and a tiny mix of relief. The blonde man leans forward from his seat in the corner, slipping something shiny around his back.
“So”, he says, “you got a name?”
The woman eyes him cautiously. Trying to give him a look of aloofness, trying to show him she is not the least bit scared. Nope. Not at all. She’s also trying to remember her name. It’s a pretty easy one.
“Hannah!” she practically screams, her body jerking forward in excitement. The men share another look.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.” the blonde man says. A smug grin plastered across the face.
The woman wants to hit him.
It’s noon.
Knowing it’s noon would put her in an excellent position if she actually knew what day it was. Or month, for that matter. There’s a slight smell of oil and something she can’t quite put her finger on until she looks down and notices her feet. That iron stench bellowing up. Blood.
Her breathing fastens and suddenly she’s trying her hardest not to panic. She notices movement and glances up to the far corner of the room. Two men, one incredibly large and sullen; the other not quite as big but twice as angry.
No, the look in his eyes isn’t anger. Annoyance, perhaps?
The woman thinks at this point she should win a medal for not screaming. She draws her knees to her chest. Suddenly, swiftly, the larger man stands and walks over to her. The woman closes her eyes.
When she opens them, the man is giving her a questioning look and holding a bottle of water out to her. She eyes the other man in the corner and he nods for her to take the drink. The larger mans eyes turn from questions to compassion as the woman reaches out. There are bruises and cuts down the length of her arm. She quickly grabs the bottle and brings it to her lips, downing it as fast as she can, like a fish whose been released back into water. She looks back up at the men. They’re both staring hard at her, confusion and a tiny mix of relief. The blonde man leans forward from his seat in the corner, slipping something shiny around his back.
“So”, he says, “you got a name?”
The woman eyes him cautiously. Trying to give him a look of aloofness, trying to show him she is not the least bit scared. Nope. Not at all. She’s also trying to remember her name. It’s a pretty easy one.
“Hannah!” she practically screams, her body jerking forward in excitement. The men share another look.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.” the blonde man says. A smug grin plastered across the face.
The woman wants to hit him.