PITYING THE PRISONER | p.jm

e i g h t - j i m i n

Cora takes me back to my cell. I do my best to hide the pain I feel as I move, it's forbidden to let her know that I'm hurting. It's not like anything bad will happen to me if she does find out, but something in me knows that she ought not know about it.

When we get to my cell, she very reluctantly clips the chain to the wall, a sad look on her face. "Sorry," she manages. This is killing her.

"It's alright, Cora," I reply.

Take me with you.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she says quietly.

She leaves.

I do my best to sleep, but it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain coursing through my body.

Eventually, though, it comes.

* * *

My eyes open just as Cora enters the room with breakfast. I move a bit, readjust myself, and a dull ache settles upon my body. Cora hands me my food with a sad smile, and then she's gone again. I eat quickly, wanting to regain my strength. This place has started to take its toll on me. I feel weaker, I feel smaller, but overall I've started to feel less. More uncommon are emotions other than uncertainty and fear, though I do feel something else when Cora is in my presence. But I am not the same man I was when I first arrived here, and that's the scariest thing of all. How much more will I change before I escape this place, if I ever do? Can I still trust Cora after what she did today? Is she trying to break me even now?

No, no, that can't be. I refuse to let myself believe that Cora too has betrayed me. I care too much for her to think that. I care too much for her to tell her what's happening. I'm hurting myself over hurting her. It's better that way.

Cora comes to pick up the tray, and as she takes it from me, she hands me a small square object. I don't examine it until she's gone.

Chocolate, I note. Very romantic.

I chuckle internally at the idiocy of my own thoughts and then covertly begin to eat the small square candy. It's dark chocolate. Not my favorite, but still much better than I ever thought it would taste. I remember learning, whether it be from TV or one of those clickbait articles online, that dark chocolate has chemicals in it that stimulate the brain. It makes you happy. Admittedly, that's probably why I like it so much. Happiness has been evading me recently.

Once the chocolate is gone, I'm left to my own devices yet again. I pray that they won't come again.

They don't.

***

Cora reappears in my cell at noon that day. She's wearing black jeans and a blue hoodie. Her appearance is casual, certainly the most casual I've seen her so far. It doesn't make her any less beautiful, or any less threatening. I shield myself from her harsh words, refusing to let them affect me. If I become afraid of Cora, I will have absolutely no one left.

She interrogates me, asking me questions I answer honestly. I know that if she has to report these details to anyone, she'll change them. My secrets are safe with her. I want her to stay, I'd rather she continue berating me in character than be here all alone. I need to get out of here before my spirit breaks itself. I can no longer stand the absence of others. My sanity is reliant on Cora. I need her.