The Wavering Hawk [ENGLISH]

P12. A Friend

My cellmates was someone who likes talking unstoppably.

I was wandering when will he could actually exhausted. But since the only thing that kept me conscious was his raspy voice, I never bothering myself again.

The warden sometimes came, succumbed us to sedatives, and do something to us, but nothing painful or seemed to be left scar. For the rest of days until the meal delivered to this cell the day after, I just listened to him talking all the time, totally forgot how many days have been passed.

"Since you're here, they've become somewhat lazy," The man moved his limb on the cold brick floor. "You're lucky. If you came earlier, they would have cut you and take your innards and cook it."

I didn't believe they cook it.

"By the way, it's pretty boring to talk about only trivial matters, right? So, today, let's talk about something more private!" The man sounded shady for the first time. "Why are you here, Lad?"

I gave him no answer.

"Come on, why they placed you here, out of all prison?"

"I don't know." I turned my back on him as I laid on the floor, by his side. The pain on my back hurt, but it subsided in time. "I remember brought gun with me to the refugee camp."

"No wonder. They're petty sometimes." He sighed. "Well, you've got pretty bad luck there. Only carrying gun! I was here because I treated a Maha!"

That name sent thrills on my spine. But the fact he just told me, restrained me to do anything.

"You're a doctor." I covered the shirt to my naked torso, like a blanket.

"Was," he corrected. "They took my hands as they experimented on me sometimes ago. They said it was a punishment, but I saw it, the burns on my flesh few days before they took it all."

"They gave you something?"

"And you as well...." He paused as I felt uneasiness crept though my exposed back. "Well, I don't know for sure, since I didn't feel anything these days. And you? Did you feel anything strange on your body?"

"No." Nothing but unhealed wounds, just like usual. On second thought, it might be a symptom to something, but ... I didn't know how that never crossed my mind before. "Are you sick?"

"May be. Who knows? You worry?"

"Worry...." I repeated that word, felt strange unfamiliarity. "I don't know."

The man sneered. "You know? Sometimes, I thought I was talking to a Maha. You're pretty boring." He laughed as my mouth sealed. "But of course, that's not possible. You were in a camp. You asked things and you have injuries. Oh, I didn't mean to—I mean, you're tall, but not—

"I understand." I retorted, ignoring the unusual sensation on my chest. "It didn't hurt me."

"I see. That's a relief...." He patted my shoulder. "By the way, I haven't given you my name, right?"

The tapping on my shoulder changed. His arm moved in a circular and curvy lines. I realized he was writing something.

LET.

"I'm Omar."

I almost couldn't decipher his poor writing with an arm like that. "You're speaking English rather good."

"I'm from Britannia Kingdom, yes, but my mother was from Hadriah." He told as his arm kept writing hidden messages. "And you? What's your name?"

US.

"I'm...."

My voice stopped abruptly as my mind went blank. Something felt off. Something hold me from spoke. I bit my lip before finally able to said it. "Nathaniel."

ESCAPE.

I froze when the message completed. Omar stopped tapping on my shoulder. I turned my back and faced him, but nothing I could see in this darkness. I could only smell his stinky breath on my face.

"Nathaniel, just like the name of a friend." He said. "But he'd rather called Neil. Would you mind if I call you like that, Nathaniel? It felt shorter and easier to say."

I felt his arm fell on my shoulder. Using that chance, I write down on his skin.

YOU KNOW HOW TO ESCAPE?

"Do as you wish...." I said, not realizing the strange confusion at the end of my words. He wrote a reply.

I KNOW A WAY.

I felt another tap on my cheek this time: his other hand, but this hand was no different than his crippled. The soldiers took all of his arms. His arm never stopped. "Then it's official! We're cellmates and friends!"

JUST FOLLOW ME.

"We're friends now?" Omar asked while kept writing.

WE WIL BE FREE.

I was too consumed on translating his writing that I answered to that question without thinking twice. "Yes ... we're friends."

How I will regret that decision.

***