Groggily I open my eyes. My head feels and if I was run over by a truck. Sitting up I look around. I was sitting on wood planks in a cell. I was swaying so I must be on a ship. An eerie feeling goes up my spine as I look over in the next cell. A man sat in the corner with beady eyes singing a song. He had a long greasy blonde almost white hair and was pale.
"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
They strung up a man
They say who murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where dead man called out
For his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be if we meet at midnight at the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run,
So we'd both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope,
Side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
Croacked the horse ancient voice of the prisoner. As he sang the last old note he looked me in thehe turned his head and looked me straight in the eye as if he could see right through me. His eyes were a pale milky blue with honey flex in the center. They seemed wild and crazed as if he had seen the horrors of the world first hand. As I looked closer I realized the shriveled old man was not even looking at me. It took a minute for it to register in my mind that the poor man was not even looking at me he was blind. He only "looked" in my direction because I had moved creating a slight shuffling noise. I should have noticed when he seemed like he was in a distant place.
"Hello?" He croaked.
"Um hello" I said slowly as not to frighten him.
"Who are you?" he said slowly almost as if speaking to a child.
"My name is Ila, and what is yours?" I asked nicely hoping to have a decent conversation with someone. But I knew in the back of my mind how decent could it be if I was sitting in a moldy cell in some kind of run down smelly pirate ship.
"Sighing he responded almost as if disappointed in himself. Its Timothy I think, I haven't been called by name in years. My lady If it isn't too much to ask what are ye doin here?"
"I got captured" I syed upset. looking up I see a torch positioned by the door. The blaze was so mighty small sparks were falling off. Fortunately before they reach the ground they would sizzle off into nothingness.
Forming his mouth into an Ohh. He sits back making his old muscle pop and rumble.
"How old are you Timothy?" I ask feeling quite nosy.
"Umm eighty four I think" he says answering my question. As he said his age I could faintly hear a sliver of an accent. Maybe I rish but over the years he seemed to have lost the spark of the language for not being in his homeland.
"Hey Timothy?"
"Mhhh" He says closing his hardend eyes and putting his arms under his head as if some form of a pillow.
"Are you Irish?" I ask.
Surprised he jumps up but, before he could barely open his mouth the door was slammed open. With such force the door smacks the wall and snaps back hitting the intruder in the side. In comes a large man dressed in shiny black armor. Not saying a word he throws a tray of soggy bread and beans in Timothy's cell. Which makes the the beans slosh out the sides and onto the ground. Without a moment's thought he grabs the tray by its rusted handles and dipped his head down and devours the measly parcels in seconds. Bringing his head uo once more his long blonde beard was covered in a soggy mess of food.
The man next comes to my cell and does the same. But unlike Timothy I stay in place and do not reach for the food. I only look at the man as he walks away. Just as he reaches the door I sneak a glance at my reflection in his beautiful armour. As I glance at the smooth metal the sight I see is horrible. My hair is matted and at odd angles. My once fair skin has a bronzy hue due to the hours of sun on the island. My face is slightly blue from the the slaps I had received. Disgusted I turn my head away. Without thinking I push my food to Timothy through the gap in my cell. As he gratefully slurps down my share of dinner I lay on the ground. And stare off into the blazing torch on the wall.
All credit goes to The Hunger Games for " The Hanging Tree'
YOU ARE READING
Overthrown?
RomanceA murder. A mourning kingdom. A funeral. A coronation. A fire. A family torn from its seems. A deceiving brother. A common villain. A sick child. An island. A rescue? A prison. A jailmate. A game. Three Bullets. A letter. A Promise. Was my life a li...
