Royal Pain In The . . .

Chapter 43: Go create Anecdote number six

I sat there in silence for almost ten minutes going over all the information I was given. Is it absolutely horrible that I am somewhat justifying their actions. I was disgusted with the people I have surrounded myself with all this time. Behind that crazy, controlling exterior Naomi was a killer. The charming and loyal brothers were also murderers.My mother! She killed his. What the hell is going on? How did I ever see past this? How did I not know? 

Maybe, we deserve this. Maybe I deserve all of this.

"Was he telling the truth? Or was this little chat a part of that twisted psychopath/sociopath's evil plan to destroy me?" I spoke aloud because well I'm alone it's not like the walls were going to respond.

I heard a cough.

Or where they?

"Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue with your mental self-torture it's quite entertaining" I heard a male voice call from the cell beside me.

"Who are you? Is this the wall. Am I still drugged?" I asked walking over to my left sitting on the bed and setting my ear on the wall.

"You're not drugged," he laughed, "we seem to be prison mates."

"How long have you been in here?"

"Oh, one, two, three months" he stated nonchalantly. My eyes widened at his response. Was I going to be in here that long?

"Holy fuck" I muttered my hands beginning to become clammy. "I have to get out of here" I mumbled. I couldn't see him and he couldn't see me. All I had going for me was his voice and trusting that he was actually here.

"I've tried everything babe. There's no way"

"Who are you? Why do they have you here?"

"I don't know. I was in an accident and can't remember a single detail of my life"

"That's tragic.

"But I'm guessing I'm of some importance because they won't let me go. So you're Elena? I take it you must be important too?"

"Egh," I shrugged my shoulders.  I heard a door open not too far away from us. "They're coming for me aren't they?"

"Yeah,"

I stayed quiet wiping my hands on my jeans.

"When they hit you scream. Scream loudly and in pain even if it didn't hurt. They'll keep going until you do. If you flex your stomach when they cut you, it'll hurt less. Don't talk back. Don't be sarcastic. Don't fight. Trust me. Those where my biggest mistakes when I was with them. And if they whip or do some other lame 18th century torture bullshit, tuck your head so your face won't scar. I don't know about you but I'm quite the fan of my face"

"Thank you" I whispered closing my eyes.

"Just trying to make friends in prison." I chuckled but hugged myself as I heard the foot steps approach me.

"I'm scared"

"They'll go easier on you than me. You're smaller"

"But they hate me more" I answered when I heard footsteps stop. A red-head with a mask and a bleached blonde boy stood on the other side of my cell and banged on the bars with a stick.

"There she is" he laughed unlocking my cell.  He walked in and I was about to fight him when I saw him pull out a gun. "Walk," he motioned shoving me out of the cell. I turned right so I wasn't able to put a face to voice I heard in my cell. They continued to push me forward every time they thought I was walking too slow or stopped for too long. The red-head yanked on my hair and pulled me down to the floor once we entered another room. This one was full with other masked people. They tied my wrists and hung me from the ceiling. My feet barely touched the floor.