Free Girl Possessed (Book 1 of The Girl Trilogy) by Reussie Miliardario Page B

tapping her hairbrush to our tunes and causing quite
a physical stir on her side of the wall. I was thrilled to have a
companion to interact with. We sang in utter bliss for the rest of
the day.
    But, then, night came…
    Now in the darkness of my cell, I
couldn’t stop a new flood of emotions. I missed my mother. My mind
soared into self-defeating rages and uncontrollable fits of crying.
I had always been a fairly quiet, introverted person, so these
emotional outbursts were new to me. But, the gates of emotion had
opened and I didn’t know how to shut them.
    My cries seemed to cause an odd clamor
on the other side of the wall. It sounded like my dungeon companion
was pacing her cell. And then there was that lion roaring. An eagle
cawing. And a goat naying. As my wailing escalated, to my utter
shock, the ground began to shake beneath my feet like an
earthquake.
    I was so frightened that I climbed
back into the bathtub, the only place I felt safe, and I held my
head under the water until I passed out. I don’t know how I didn’t
die of drowning, but somehow when I awoke—a sea of music sounding
in my head—I was perfectly fine.
    After days of doing nothing, not even
taking baths, I woke up when the sun was directly above the high,
high skylight. Lunch slid through the slider. It was stale as
usual, but had enough nutrients to sustain me.
    I liked Wednesday lunches the
best—chopped turtle with young bamboo shoots, and dried turnip
salad. Some days the food was so gross I couldn’t even eat it.
Rabbit guts on leaves were the worst. The chef always left the
rabbit head on my plate which made me gag and sometimes
vomit.
    The rest of the day I didn’t feel like
taking a bath, styling my hair, or singing, so I had nothing to do.
I was in a melancholy mood and I couldn’t get myself motivated.
After a short while, while lying on the blanket upon the stone
floor, I started to go crazy with boredom and self-pity.
    As usual, I wanted to take revenge on
the community leaders. I obsessively tried to figure out if Jezebel
had turned me into the authorities. She must have.
    I devised intricate plans on how I
could kill her and then the leaders. In the very least, I would
take revenge upon her. I hated that evil girl and the humiliating
scar she had created on my upper chest.
    I figured she must have blackmailed
one of her friends, probably Tomaru who also hated me, into falsely
confessing as the second witness to me crossing the boundary line.
Whatever the case, there was no way out of this cell and my plans
of revenge were futile. Who was I kidding?
    As usual, I missed my mother something
awful. I worried about her incessantly. I knew she must be
suffering tremendously knowing I am all alone in here. Now, I would
never see her again and that was the worst knowledge I had ever
sustained. My circumstances rendered me entirely powerless. If only
I could somehow get through the skylight way, way up above. But,
there was no way out of this cell. The skylight was too
high.
    That night was worse. I hated thinking
in the dark. I hated hearing that latch lift, that key turn, that
slider raise, and the horrible sound of the food tray sliding
through the door.
    I wanted so badly to grab that gray
haired woman’s hand and break it off. Every night it took
everything in me to stop myself from trying.
    I couldn’t do it anyhow. If I was to
pull her hand through the little sliding door, I had nothing to cut
her arm off with aside from my fingernails and teeth. I figured
she’d scream and the male guard who brought me here would save her
and then torture me. There were the sounds of footsteps and muffled
voices above the stairs at meal times, so I knew the tall woman
wasn’t alone. And, anyway, she was a big, burly lady who looked
much stronger than me, probably even stronger than most
men.
    So, that night when my anger reached
its peak, at one point, I put my hand against the wall that
separated my cell from my dungeon mate’s cell and to