36. I’m so tired
I’M SO TIRED
“Scar are you awake?” I asked my eyes, seeking him out in the dim moonlight.
“Yeah, why aren’t you sleeping?” He hummed. I couldn’t sleep. Not really. I had been so afraid of sleep since they’d tried to drown me. My eye stayed latched on the cell door for hours until my body forced me to sleep. I looked at him and then back at the cell door.
“Do you think they’ll come back? I’m so tired.
” I whispered to him. My stomach had gotten worse; the pain continued day after day, as if I were being eaten from the inside out.
Scar noticed it too; they’d fed us less and less when they found out Scar was sharing his portions with me.
He kept saying that it was fine, that he would be okay without the extra food, but I saw how he looked.
His face was sunken in and his muscles weren’t as big as when he first came here.
“I don’t know trouble, you seemed to upset the big man more than usual,” he sighed, the chain rattling a bit as he came closer to our shared bars.
“Good, I hate him.” I said, crossing my hands across my chest.
Scar chuckled, it was a deep, throaty sound, “Are you warm enough?” he asked.
“I’m okay. I think. No fevers and the goosebumps have disappeared from my arms.” I replied.
“Come lean against me anyways, we still don’t know if you got a cold from all that water.”
I moved closer to the bars, dragging the blanket with me. He leaned his back against it, and I instantly felt better with his warmth next to me.
“Scar?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we going to starve?” I asked.
I felt him take a deep breath, and there was silence for a while before he replied, “We already are.”
“Oh,” I pulled at a loose thread on my blanket. “Will we die here?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I hope we don’t die here.” He rumbled.
“Do you think it’s like starving?” I asked. I didn’t like starving. It hurt so much.
“Starving isn’t all that different. The only difference is how long it takes you to fly away. I’m sure with your wings you’ll get far away, isn’t that why they call you little butterfly?”
“How did you know?” I asked in wonder.
“You talk in your sleep trouble.” He sighed.
“Oh,” I replied, not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. We sat there quietly for a while before I asked my final question. “Will you talk to me until I fall asleep, I feel safe listening to your voice.” I yawned, already feeling sleepy.
“Always.” he confirmed and then began to talk about Prince Oliver again, or that’s what I think he started talking about. I wasn’t sure, as my eyes couldn’t stay open and my ears didn’t focus. Yawning once more, listening to the hum of his voice, I began to fall into a deep sleep.
“Good night Scar.” I mumbled.
“Good night trouble.”