Chapter 2: Despair
35th of Enous 10:00 p.m.
Rick awoke to salty water dripping into his long, stiff, disheveled hair, causing him to shiver and shake his head before moving away from the wall.
“Rick,” Alice choked out, “how long have we been here?”
Rick ignored the phantom words emanating from his lips, his full attention was given to getting the piece of stale bread and moldy meat that sat on the floor, that had been dropped through the grate/entrance above. Gathering the food he ate ravenously, adjusting periodically to keep his exposed rear from growing too cold against the stone.
Once finished, he carefully arranged the bone from the meat carefully with the others in the corner around a small plant that looked like a weed with a small Purple bud. “I do not know how long we have been here… but this flower is a year flower it is about to bloom so when it blooms, we will be in the second year of the third cycle.” Rick stared quietly at the flower. “nearly a year and a half since I killed you.”
“Rick,” Alice spoke quietly, rubbing his course thick stubble. “It was Kite who killed me.”
“If I had been stronger, I could have resisted, that is my fault solely.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Alice, you are a figment of my broken mind, you know that I know that.”
Alice was quiet so Rick crawled to a dry corner and began to attempt to exercise.
“What are you doing?” Alice asked.
“My body, it is deteriorating. I need to try and keep some strength so that if I can break out or am released, I will not be totally useless.”
“I understand.”
When he could no longer continue, he collapsed into a heap and dreamt of better days.
He was awoken to his bladder and gut complaining about the food they had consumed so with a dejected sigh he got up and moved to a sewage grate. A grate like the one used to enter the cell except this one was heavily concreted into the ground, and the bars were so close together he could not get his fingers between the bars. Squatting over the bars he was able to relieve himself. Though due to a lack of toilet paper, he had to resort to cleaning himself in the dribble of water coming from the wall. Once finished, he returned to his previous position, hunched over like a boulder strapped to his back. And he looked and saw the flower had bloomed.