Number 5

Chapter 18

Sorry it has been so long since I last wrote but I made this chapter a little longer as a consolation.

Thank you for everything - I am so grateful to anyone who has voted or commented.

So here is Chapter 18 - PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT!!

My nails scratch against the cool, clammy wall. My heart pounds at a mile per minute. I'm afraid the colossal thudding within my chest is going to echo around the walls of the room and attract the unwanted attention of the guards. I'm waiting for her.

I sniff the air, inhaling the odour of the mildew and slime that clings to the wall. Its so faint now. When I was first thrown into the room, the stench was overpowering. Nauseating.

I feel like criminal in the jail of the President's manor. I also feel as crazed as one.

Upon arrival, I sucuumbed to my own grief. The cold walls provided solice for my aching head and weary body. The thought of my match tortured me into oblivion; a bleak, despondent place in the very depths of my mind. It seemed almost as if I would never be able to escape the night shadows. However I am all cried out now.

So now I wait. The few rays of light that shine through the barred square in the door, allow me to peer at the clock that ticks just outside my door. I have ten minutes. This may be foolish but I have no other option.

Similarly to other events in my life, I have been contrived.

8 minutes.

I breathe deeply, emerging myself into the darkest shadows of the room where I know she will not see me. I shall be invisible.

The dampness of the wall begins to seep through my thin dress. I have not changed since that day; I try to flinch at the memory. On top of the scent of decay of the room, a whiff of negligence and blight also begins to surround me.

7 minutes.

A little pride fills me when I think of my tolerance levels and the edges of my lips curl upwards. It has not been easy. Initially I did keep count on the days however my eratic sleep pattern soon deterred all of my efforts. My last number was 8. But who knows how long ago that was.

He has come a few times; it seems the devil does walk among us. He masquerades as the President, promoting peace between our dwellings. But all he causes is carnage...purposefully. Within the pit of my stomach, I feel the flames begin to lick at my anger, alighting it.

He never says anything though. Instead he uses the most effective form of abuse.

Mental.

At the arms of Octavia, my head is yanked up by my hair and forced to read the newspaper in front of me. Each day, the titles are more appalling.