Free Unwound by Yolanda Olson

to
    tear Cassara’s ear from her head.
    I pounded my way up to the third floor. As soon as I entered I
    made my way to the window and placed her ear on the
    windowsill. It was chilly in the room but I wanted to make sure
    that my prize would be preserved because I had every intention
    now of going back to London and I would make sure she knew it
    was I that took one of her precious creations and rendered it
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    incomplete as she had done to me.
    As I lay my head down on the beaten old pillow that was left
    on the cot I used for my bed, I wondered if that was her intention all along. If sending one of her recently made creations after me
    would lure me back to her, what did she have in store for me?
    Would she kill me right away or would she slowly take me apart
    piece by piece?
    I closed my eyes and even with as exhausted as I was, my
    body refused to recharge itself. How could I have been so foolish
    leaving without the book? I’m sure in it was some sort of care
    instructions and here I was planning revenge on my maker while
    slowly withering away. Grunting I rolled on my side. I could feel
    myself becoming bitter and that would serve me no purpose. I
    was losing myself in the thoughts that were now consuming me.
    How could a rotting timepiece destroy something so solid and
    real?
    I jumped when I heard something small land on the floor. My
    arm twitched slightly and continuously. I raised it so that I could see why it had taken on a sudden mind of its own. In the darkness, I peered at it but couldn’t figure out what the problem was until I pulled myself up to a seated position and angled it under the
    moonlight. That’s when I saw it; one of the pieces that was used
    to keep my motor skills in tact lying on the floor next to the cot. I 86
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    reached down to retrieve it and walked over to the window.
    Examining the wound in my arm, I saw where it had come loose
    from and tried to slide it back in, but without the proper tools, it kept sliding out. Now I would have to learn how to control my
    arm or I would lose my life quickly against London.
    I tossed the cog next to Cassara’s ear. Neither thing was of
    use to me until I went back. Unless… I grabbed the ear and made
    my way down to the first floor with a horrifying plot in mind.
    Once I reached my destination I went directly to the table
    where I had made my shirt with Morrison’s help scanning for any
    tool that might be somewhat useful. I glanced around until I
    found the rotary cutter that I had used that night and sat at the end of the table with the large sewing machine in front of me.
    As I began my work I couldn’t help but feel a little sick. It’s
    like the worst part of London was showing through me, but unlike
    her I had to be extremely careful with my arm giving a random
    almost constant twitch. What I did wasn’t perfect and what I did
    wasn’t genius. What I did was done in a moment of desperation
    thinking that I could complete just a little more of myself than she had done.
    After the painstaking part of my plan was done, I retrieved a
    needle and some thread and made my way back up to the third
    floor with my possessions in hand. I put my materials on the
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    windowsill and brought the mirror and cot over to that side of the room. I was going to have to work in the moonlight but if I
    concentrated and was careful enough, I knew I could do it.
    I took a deep breath and removed the patch that Jared had so
    kindly given me. I stared at myself trying to decide if this was
    worth going as far as London would. All that stared back at me
    was an empty eye socket with wheels and cogs busily spinning
    about inside showing through the gaps of skin she hadn’t
    bothered to close.
    Determination took over me.
    With my shaky arm, I threaded the needle and grabbed the
    pieces of skin I had removed from Cassara’s ear. Leaning into the
    mirror I held a small piece above my eye and used my steady
    hand to break my flesh stitching