DARK

QUESTIONS

-DAY 1-

"What's your favourite colour?" Connor asked. 

I stared at him for a moment.  He had 20 questions to ask me anything, and he chose the most basic question ever. "Yellow," I responded.

"What shade?" He questioned again.

"That's two questions," 

He narrowed his eyes at me. "If you don't tell me I'm just going to assume its piss yellow," 

"Ugh, gross, it's more of a sunset yellow, kind of where the sky starts to turn orange but isn't quite there,"  I responded.

"Okay, your turn," Connor replied.

"What's your favourite food?" I asked. If he was going to ask the predictable questions, so was I. There was no way I was asking anything profound if he wasn't.

"Waffles. I miss those," Connor replied.

"Yeah, I miss those too. Having waffles in the morning was always a highlight, especially on weekends," I suddenly felt my heart begin to ache. I missed brunches with my family and BBQ nights.

"What was your dream job?" Connor asked.

"Was?" 

"Yeah, like before you got down here," He clarified.

"I wanted to be an Olympic ice skater. I had high chances of making it too," My heart sped up in my chest, talking about all this brought me back to the days when I wasn't wondering when my next meal would be, or if I'd be safe. Five hundred days ago.

"That's cool. My little sister skated. She was more into hockey though," 

"My turn. What was your favourite subject in school?" I asked. I didn't want to question more about his sister; it was hard even thinking about family members. 

"I liked biology. I was interested in more of the animal parts, though. I wanted to be a marine biologist. If I ever get out of here, I'm becoming one," A small smile was on his face as he spoke. His dreams seemed to lift his spirits. "What was your favourite past time?"

"It was reading. I read so many books; it was ridiculous. My room had two bookshelves in it that were completely packed full. I requested books down here a lot, but Red just never gave in," I answered. Red's response was always that books gave ideas on how to escape. He would always tell me that he needed me here. Now at least I know why.

"I liked comic books," Connor pitched in.

I laughed. "Not the same thing. What's your favourite sport to play?"

"I played tons of sports, but my favourite is soccer. That was always such a rush for me. After game parties were always super fun as well," He said.

"Nice," I responded. I predicted that Connor was the sport time, it was sad to see an athletic boy, who was most likely muscular and healthy, look so thin and unlively. 

"What's your favourite song?" He asked.

"I honestly don't know. The one I sometimes sing when I'm feeling lonely, though, is Fight Song. That's because I'm trying to make myself feel like I can be strong, and I can get past this if or when I get out. What was your nickname?" I answered. I also asked a question right away because I didn't want to discuss any further how quiet it was down here.

"Con. Very original," He answered. He also let out a little laugh. 

Over the next hour or two, Connor and I laughed about stupid highschool stories. We told each other about our friends, and the times we've ditched class. He told me how he had run away from home one day just because the school had called and told his mom that he got suspended for fighting. Talking to Connor now, I could never see him as the violent type. It was possible that being down here had softened him up a little, but it was still hard to imagine. I knew for sure that this thin boy sitting in front of me probably had a more meaningful life at one point in time. He talked about the first time he ever scored a goal in soccer, and how his parents bought him a limited-edition soccer ball as a gift. I told him about the first time I ever broke my ankle skating, and how in response, my parents surprised me with tickets to Disney World. I wasn't able to go on any rides, though, because of my crutches and cast. The food was still amazing.