It's amazing how suddenly your life can change; like the awe of metamorphosis. Yet, not always do you change for the best; so how do you know if the limb is fit for your cocoon? Well, that's the beauty of it - you don't; tis why I worried after that first change.
The air was thin and the night cold, all inmates were shut in their cells. None dared toy with a sound upon their tongue for the badge-wearing prowlers were on the move. I busied my hands with a pebble to distract the tears that teetered on the brim of my eye. For me it was day two hundred twenty-one and try as I might, I couldn't convince the federals I was innocent.
"Oh Natalia," I thought helplessly, "I pray you know the truth and that you're not afraid to declare my name as your mother!" But even as I said it then, for the millionth time, I couldn't help but encounter the sole belief that even God couldn't hear my pleas beneath this concrete dungeon. Though, somehow, I still tried and I could never comprehend why I did; whether it was my loss of sanity or the only wisp of hope I could savor. If only I could discard this free killer's jumpsuit and slip back into my lilac apron… if only. Then, I did the one thing I wished I hadn't - I threw the pebble with unaudited frustration. It skipped against the stone floor, each impact as loud as a blow horn, and landed at the feet of a guard whose mask was one of a humored smirk. My heart stopped and hands shook to such an extent that my bones rattled.
"Well, I believe your in violation of code E little miss," he smiled wittedly, "No noise after lights-off." He jammed a key from his pocket into the door of my cell, "Get up. We're going to the Line Up."
The Line Up - it thundered in my head, pulsing and hammering into my thoughts. My breath shivered as I remembered my last visit and how my legs had nearly collapsed beneath me. How dreadful and inhumane! But I'd done it once, if I gathered my wits, I could manage to stand for my time and then buckle. Once I'd left my cell and entered the dimness of the aisle, I was able to see the gruffness of this guard and a worried hazel blossoming in his eyes. It was strange to see for usually the only emotion that bloomed upon the men in blue was either annoyance or humor. But here, there was worry and a forced humor; not typical I decided, not in the least. Afraid he'd scold my starring, I bowed my head and stared at my bluish bare feet as the other prisoners shifted in their cells, peeking from the corner of their eye at the pitiful shrimp to be fried.
Distant from my whereabouts, I was overwhelmed when I discovered we'd passed the Line Up and had headed further towards the main office of the building. Yet, as we passed the office, we didn't turn, and the guard quickened his pace. I longed to ask just where we were going, but with a side glimpse at the guard's anxiety, I decided it where best not to and struggled to hold my breath steadily.
Then finally we stopped at a wall and the guard motioned for me to remain silent as he reached for a tube in his pocket and flicked the liquid inside it at the wall. What was he doing?! To my utter amazement, a glistening door appeared and the guard ushered me into its dark depths. After he too had squeezed into the small space, he closed the door and I distinctly remember the faint click of a lock. To be certain of my silence he cupped my mouth with his hand.
Then, urgently, he whispered, "I'm sorry to have alarmed you with the Line Up. Besides, that's not where you're going, not tonight anyway."
Beneath his warm hand my mouth formed the shapes of words of inquiry, but he shunned my motion.
"I'm not going to hurt you so quit panicking, will you? I'm trying to save you. Lorelei, I know you're innocent and if you promise to not utter a word to any one else of my intention, then I'll help you escape."
He knew my name. None of the other guards had, they'd always referred to me as number seven-two-four. It was an astounding truth that he knew my name; thus I couldn't bear to not see the reasoning for it, "How do you know?" I whispered into his hand.
"Of your innocence?" he inquired.
"No, how do you know my name?"
"Well," he looked surprised by my interest, "I read your file; it's my job."
"No it's not, you're a guard. I know for a fact they don't allow the guards here to skim the files."
"You're clever," he announced, scratching his head, "Well, I know your daughter and she has quite the collection of photos."
To Be Continued...