Poisoned Lips

7: Reality

//unedited//
• a deal is a deal Marykhah77 here is the new chapter as promised

Enjoy!
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The last few days of Freyja's life felt like a far-away memory. Like a dream. The events felt blurred and distant. They had happened too fast for her to emotionally process everything: her mother’s death, the supposed cure, Lydia’s betrayal... And the constant pounding in her head didn’t help.

Chained to the wall by her ankles, she sat on the floor with her chin high, blankly staring at the cell door, waiting to be executed. She had accepted her fate when she was on the ship to Brausee.

Brausee, her place of birth.

She shook her head. She had hoped to visit Brausee on her own accord but reality was a bitter friend. Yes, she was in her homeland but she was in prison, locked and chained in a 12m² cell like an animal. The irony of the situation made her laugh.

"Deranged creature," Someone said.

Freyja couldn't care less about her cellmates. Not of Devland who was holding onto Azalea, not of Azalea who hadn't stopped her random outbursts, not of the girl with the eyepatch, and certainly not of the lanky boy who gripped the cell bars as if his life depended on it. 

The cell door was made up of metal bars and a food-hole. Outside of the cell, all she could see was a brick wall. Two small windows were constructed beside each other let just enough afternoon light in. While the cell wasn’t crowded, it reeked of dead rats.

As she squeezed her pearl in her fists, she forced herself to forget about her past. She couldn't seem weak. Freyja needed to face this like a warrior— though she certainly didn't have the skill of one. But, the effort was futile as a vague memory of her mother appeared in her line of vision.

"Do you know how you got this pearl?" Her mother asked, rolling the small stone around her thumb and index fingers.

"You told me it was my father's." A six-year-old Freyja said.

"I never told you the story, did I?"

Freyja perked up. "Story? No, you haven't! Tell me." She ran to the bed and sat on it.

"Your father loved the beach so much so that he took you there whenever he got the chance. One day, when he was walking on the beach, you started to cry. He tried everything to make you stop but you simply didn't want to. Normally, you never cried so he wasn't prepared for the situation.

You were about five months old and I wasn't there to feed you. So, what did Dolion do? He panicked and dropped you on the wet sand, thinking that temperature would comfort you."

"Did it work?"

"Of course not." Cozbi laughed. "Then, he found a beautiful blue pearl at his feet. He picked it up and waved it in your face. It captured your attention. You had swiped it from his hands and held it so tight in your fists that he couldn't get it out. I assume that was what you did when we left Brausee."

Young Freyja discarded the last part as useless information. "Why did he give me a pearl! I could've swallowed it."

Her father must’ve given her this pearl when they wanted to flee Brausee. This pearl was the only materialistic thing that she had of him.

A loud laugh pulled from her memory, much to her annoyance. She didn't want to remember the past but it was better than remembering her present. 

"Really? Do you think your eyepatch scares anyone? It looks utterly ridiculous."