Chapter 3
THREE
Kallie
They come. They go. One glass of water at a time. Food only here and there. Sometimes, mice find their way in. I offer them my stale crackers, but they don’t touch the bread. I don’t blame them.
The itchy garment I was instructed to wear hangs loose over my frame. There’s been no sign of Callum since our little incident. A smug smile tugs at my lips as the memory resurfaces. At least I drew blood.
Who knows how long ago that even was. Days, months, years. My body shudders at the thought. Time is nothing here. It’s meaningless inside this wasteland. And yet, somehow, it’s the only thing I have left to hold on to.
The girl in the other cell finally turned toward me at some point. I didn’t flinch at her appearance when she did. My eyes stay glued to her, and I couldn’t bring myself to apologize for staring.
It also answered the question why she never spoke. She can’t. Whatever they did to her was brutal—more so than anything I’ve endured. Her tongue was severed, leaving her without a voice and her eyes—the dull, lack-of-life orbs—the only thing left to convey any message she needs to say.
I bet she was beautiful, once upon a time. I can almost make out what her facial features looked like before her sunken cheeks and rigid skeletal frame was so prominent.
Goddess, I can only imagine what I look like right now. My eyes follow the divots in the ceiling, tracing their patterns while I lie on my back. It’s growing increasingly more painful as my body eats away at what little fat I have left.
The hunger pains stopped at some point, and I wonder when they’ll stop bothering to bring anything altogether.
“What’s the point?” I ask the girl with no tongue. I know that’s pretty morbid, but life is morbid. “Keeping us locked in this cage. Why us, ya know?” I turn my head to the side to look at her. She has her legs pulled to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them.
“I like to think I’m a generally nice person. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments, but nothing to warrant this. And no offense, but nobody deserves what they did to you. That is so many versions of fucked up.” I can feel the daggers she’s shooting at me.
“I wish they would just get it over with already. Stop dragging it out with the dramatics.” I appreciate the silence she grants me—not that she has a choice, but it’s still nice.
“What’s your story anyway?” My head flops to the side, the cold concrete biting into my cheek, and I surprise myself with the small laugh that bubbles out. Her face is a mix of ‘are you fucking joking’ and ‘be so fucking for real.’
“Sorry, sorry. Let me guess.” I ponder my next words, trying to look past the swollen face and the black and blue under her eyes. I wash away all the dried blood coated on her and add about twenty pounds. The image I conjure up leaves me speechless for a few moments.
I picture that her smile would turn heads, the chestnut color of her hair always pinned out of her face, allowing it to flow freely down her back while not missing life play out in front of her light-gray eyes.
Her alabaster skin would burn in the sun but leave freckles scattered across her nose—perfectly sunkissed by the time the seasons changed.
“I would say your story is simple. I have no doubt your beauty is captivating. You never wished for more in life. You were content with the cards you were dealt.” My gaze flickers between her eyes. “You’re here by chance—wrong place, wrong time.”
Unlike me, I think to myself.
“What’s your name?” I figure if we’re going to be stuck here together for the foreseeable future, we should be on a first-name basis.
And then I feel like the biggest asshole, because she can’t talk.
“Sorry I—” She holds up her pointer finger, indicating for me to follow.
She presses it against the dust accumulating on the ground, tracing six letters.
From this angle, I have to tilt my head slightly.
“Serena.” Her body shifts with unease, like it’s been ages since she’s heard her name aloud.
“Kallie.” There’s a warmness in her expression I haven’t seen before. “Do you have any siblings?” Serena answers with a subtle nod of her head.
“I don’t. But I always wished I did. Someone to go through life with. I thought I had that—or something close to it at least. But just like everything else, I was wrong,” I confess.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I bite the inside of my cheek, focusing on that pain instead of the sorrow threatening to break free, letting them dwindle down to nothing but smoke—just like the rest of me.
I don’t say anything after that, basking in the silence.
The latch of the door breaks up my unrelenting thoughts. The guard wordlessly sets my cup through the bars and waits.
They don’t leave until our glasses are empty, not that they have to stand there long. Mine usually barely touches the ground before I’m draining it dry, soaking up every last drop.
Honestly, I haven’t quite figured out how the other girl can swallow. I roll over onto my stomach and grab the glass, letting the water trickle down my throat in the most amazing waterfall.
Placing it back down, he snags it and walks out the door, another guard following suit.
I don’t usually pay any mind to the other girl, but her eyes bore into the side of my face, so I look.
When our eyes meet, she wastes no time and gestures to the bucket at her left.
Confused, my face pinches together then morphs into bewilderment as I watch her spit the water she just took into said bucket.
My mouth falls open in shock, unable to register what I’m actually witnessing.
“What the fuck?” I whisper-scream. Her eyes dart from me to my bucket.
“I already drank it like a normal person! That’s like liquid gold.
If you didn’t want yours, by all means, I’ll take it!
” I’m livid. I can’t believe she would just dump it out.
The feeling of sandpaper in my throat is enough for me to know that I would do anything for just one more sip.
She shakes her head, like I’m not understanding. “I get what you’re saying, but you’re nuts! Why would you do that? You never know when we’re going to get more!” She slaps her palm to her forehead, and I now firmly know we are not on the same page.
She starts making gestures, her hands changing formations, moving up and down her body. This is the worst game of charades ever. When she’s done, she looks at me expectantly, like the lightbulb is supposed to go off, and everything should snap into place.
Shocker, it doesn’t.
“Now, I’m just dizzy.” She rolls her eyes and slumps against the wall in defeat.
I do the same, staring at her, trying to make sense of the performance she just put on, but I come up blank.
Choosing to ignore the act, I lie on my side, facing the wall, and start counting the cracks I’ve marked numerous times until I fall asleep.
When the water comes again, I drink it down, nearly licking the sides for one last taste. However, when they leave, I watch her spit it out into her bucket again.
I don’t have the energy to argue with her over it.
It’s not like she can give it to me anyway.
This is also the slowest way possible to die, dehydration is not the way I want to go.
I wonder if they take her into the same room they take me.
If they do, she might as well take something off the table like I did.
Slice along her throat, and it would all be over.
That’s what I should have done. Just slit my throat then and there and have this whole nightmare be over with.
When the door opens, I expect it to be a guard bringing in our basic needs for survival. I’m completely paralyzed in my spot, unable to move, to breathe, when I see the person standing on the other side of the bars.
“Kallie, sweetie. You look terrible. But did you ever look that great to begin with?” Kate’s snarky voice rings true as I bring my eyes up to meet hers.
My brain can’t comprehend what’s happening.
She looks like the girl I thought I saved all those years ago.
The one I thought was my best friend, the sister I never had.
I’ve mourned the loss of her while I’ve been here.
In some ways, I guess, it’s a relief. One last person I have to worry about leaving behind.
If I were to close my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. But the words coming out of her mouth contradict everything my brain knows to be true.
Gone is the girl I cried to, the person who held me on my bed in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much. The person who talked me off the ledge too many times to count. And for what? If this was the goal to begin with, why go through all that trouble?
The hairs on my neck stand on end. If she’s here…does that mean… My eyes track behind her, but I don’t see him. Just an empty doorway.
“Don’t be silly. He’s not coming. But he will, in time,” she says, unlocking my cell. I could take her. Probably. Just because I’m weaker doesn’t mean I can’t have the element of surprise.
If I can just catch her off guard, I think to myself.
Just as the thought enters, it’s gone just as fast, along with all the air in my lungs. I fall forward onto my knees, one hand braced against the ground and the other around my throat, grappling for some sort of reprieve.
My lungs constrict with each inhale I fail to take.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I can’t kill you, but if it were up to me, you would have been dead before you ever saw the inside of this cage,” she hisses.
The words I try to push out come out as a garbled mess.
My face heats, and the lack of oxygen is making my vision hazy.
She loosens the hold just enough for her to hear me.
“I wish you would have.” The brave girl steps over the threshold, and I have to tuck my head down to hide the smile threatening to break free.