Eyes of a Woman Prisoner
A/N: I am not sure if there were any women who were POWs. For the sake of the story, please let's say there is.(My imagination went wild. ) No profit is being made and don't own Hawkeye. Please review!!
Chapter 1
The intoxicating aroma of vomit and blood spread throughout the prison cell like blood through a body. It is digesting, but there is no escape. It spreads quickly, and gets worse every day. This cell is mostly dirt and dark and depressing. Except for the little light over the barred window, there is nothing. They are blocked by metal bars. The sunlight shines very little in this cell. The sun shows freedom, without it, there is no hope. Rats come out and search for food, which cannot be found. There is hardly any food. They have one area of the cell. On the other side, is a woman. A woman by the name of Cicada Ginger Rose Sarkinsian. She is scrunched in a corner away from the barred window and barred window. She is in the dark praying for a miracle.
Her knees reach up to her head. Her blooded beaten hands hold on to them as she rocks slowly back and forth. She stares on the other side of the room, paranoid of making sure they don't bite. The last thing she needs is to get sick in this hellhole. Noticing they are not coming near her, Cicada stretches out her legs and stares straight at them.
They are burned, bruised, bashed and bloody and thin due to lack of food and sunlight. There was nothing she could do. The enemy does many things to a person, and beating is on top of the list. Cicada looks down at her feet as well. Barefoot, she is. Her shoes got all beat up and torn that she was forced to give them up. Her uniform is no longer in great shape. It is tattered and torn. It reaches up to her knees. (She ripped the uniform for something to put over her feet.) Besides, it no longer fits anyway. She is so small now due to malnutrition.
Cicada rests her head against the wall and tries to sleep. To relax. To think of a time that used to be. To not be frighten of her life every five minutes. She thinks of Heaven. How she wishes she could be there now instead of here. She wouldn't have to worry about war, people, wounds, or any worries she might have. Cicada also wishes she had wings to get out of this place. To fly away from everything and start over again in another place. She wouldn't have to talk about the past, her experiences but look forward to the present and what it has to give.
Her eyes are about close. She also thinks about one person that she last saw. Hawkeye. Finally, a face she could remember. She falls asleep, but not for very long.
In about five minutes, a man kicks her feet awake. Cicada's eyes open quickly as the man startled her and looks up. In front of her is a North Korean with a rifle in his hand and a glare on his face. Cicada is now scared.