She awoke from her slumber and her ears picked up a distant
rumbling. Her first thoughts are of thunder, but as she strained her ears she
realized that it isn’t an approaching storm. If only she had some hint of where
she is, but she has no idea about what is outside her holding cell, except for
the light. The light which she realized isn’t the moon or the sun. It was some
kind of bulb, and the timings were sporadic so she had nothing to go on. She
felt stronger than the first time she regained her consciousness. She could
feel her cuts turning into scabs and the throbbing of her bruises lessened. But
she knew she would never be strong enough to break out, she hadn’t eaten in
days and had no water to drink. She suspected that someone had been injecting her,
while she slept, with fluids to keep her alive. She could feel a bandage on her
left arm and her right thigh. Whatever they were giving her wasn’t enough to
give her full strength, but it was enough to keep her vitals stable. They were
keeping her for something and she could only guess what. Secrets weren’t
uncommon in her line or work, but she had no clue which secret her captors
wanted. If only someone would come and talk to her, make contact, strike some
sort of a deal. The entire situation confused her; if they wanted to kill her
they wouldn’t be injecting her to keep her alive. If they wanted information
they would have tortured and harassed her. And yet, so much time had gone by
and nothing.
Every time she woke up, she would feel the same emotions. First she felt slight
confusion, then recollection and finally a concoction of despair and anger. She
had started counting the number of times she would wake up, to try and make
sense of how much time had passed since the first time she woke up in the room.
She had a very precise internal body clock, but after a while keeping count
became difficult. When the hopelessness set in she would escape to her garden
and try to keep herself from yelling and screaming out. She didn’t want to show
her slow mental degradation. She had to keep strong and prove to her subjugators
that she could keep up with their game. But with each passing minute she could
feel herself falling deeper and deeper into a black pit of gloom, with very
little to hold on to. The only thing that could possibly help her out of this mess is a miracle.
