Enslaved

Chapter 5

I, once again, find myself drifting in darkness and find a trickle of light at some distance. Following it, I am, yet again, blinded and find myself standing in the prison cell with the exquisite dressing mirror. Everything is exactly the same, the mirror, the walls and the bed with its pitiful mattress. Only, this time instead of the moonlight, sunlight is streaming down the ventilator, thus, successfully illuminating the entire room.

First I see the red hair of the woman, the sunlight manages to give those worn out locks a shine, just like it gives the moon its light. She was sitting with her back to the mirror, facing her bed such that the sunlight was falling on her face. I was again standing by the closed metal door and all I could see were the red ribbons cascading down, covering her frame. Even though she was tall, taller than me, she managed to scoop herself in a small ball when she sat. She was looking down at her lap and speaking in some foreign tongue, my guess? The same one inscribed on her mirror. Her voice was a bit hoarse due to not being given enough water but its angelic qualities were hard to miss, especially when she was whispering in utterly soft tone like that.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I walked around her and sat crossed legged bending and trying to get a glimpse, between the curtain of her hair, of what was in her lap. Unfortunately, I couldn't see anything, sighing, I leaned back, supporting my weight using my hands. Staring at her, I realised she had lost weight, prison life wasn't treating her well. I wondered what was it she did, to land with such a fate.

Suddenly, I heard a little babbling. Frowning, I quickly leaned forward at the exact moment when she chuckles and straightens, allowing her hair to move, giving me a perfect view of her lap. A gasp escapes me as I see the tiny frame of a child, sleeping comfortably in her embrace. The redness of the child's face was enough to let me know he was barely a day old. Wrapped in that holed blanket, the child's tiny fists were poking out as a small pout formed on the lips.

My eyes shifted from the sleeping infant to the mother as, now, I had a proper view of her face. She had gone paler, the little pink she had on her face was gone. But her eyes, her eyes shined ever so bright with a twinkle I knew all too well. Only a mother can have that twinkle of unconditional love and admiration as she stares at her child.

This was her hope...

This awakening took my breath away. She was pregnant when imprisoned! And that is why she refused to give up, she had to fight for her child, live and survive for the well being of the tiny speck of life nurturing in her womb. Tears stung my eyes as I again looked at the baby, he or she whoever it was, had a beautiful and very strong mother ready to brave all odds to bring it into this world.

The same cruel world that had mercilessly thrown her into this hell. I thought bitterly. They were not only punishing her, but also an innocent soul, that is, if the mother wasn't innocent herself. After what I had just witnessed, I wasn't sure if the woman herself deserved to be here or not. But there wasn't much I could do anyway, other than watch what's unfolding in front of me.

She ran her fingers gently along her baby's forehead to the tip of the nose, like the million times I did to Raph. The serene expression from her face slipped the moment the metal door rattled. She swiftly got up and walked to the farthest corner, crouching she turned her head towards the door, her beautiful features morphing into a snarl.

Hinges of the door groaned in protest to the lack of oiling as it was forcefully thrown open. A huge, bald man walked inside carrying a covered bowl. He stopped after taking three steps and crouched, making her uneasy and protective for her baby. Clutching the baby closer to her chest, she let out a low growl. This seemed to scare the man as his movements faltered. Swiftly placing the bowl on the ground, he stood up and stepped back keeping his eyes on the woman who was taking in his every move like a hawk, supporting a feral expression.