"She hid herself in a cloud

And she fell as rain

Musically on the grass

In a leaf-lit lane

Oh she was so grave and silent

So shy of a word

That no one guessed she went swinging

From a wire in the bird."

~Peggy Pond Church

—-

The yellow-tinged, heavily worn paper of the book in front of me accompanied with the smell of old paper and ink had always relaxed me ever since I was young. I've always loved reading, especially poetry. Really any kind of art intrigued me from painting and sculpting to lyrics and culinary, but my passion has always been in the arts that used words like music and poetry. Words have always been powerful, and they can never be taken back. My older brother and I had learned that the hard way.

A sharp pain in my left temple snapped me out of my temporary escape as I quickly hid my book underneath the tattered, flattened makeshift mattress that I had grown to hate. I looked up to the direction of the blow to my head to see the source of most of the pain in my life.

"Hey bitch! Wake up! Ya have a lovely gentleman here who paid good money to spend some time with ya," the man in front of me sneered the last part, and I willed myself not to shutter. Friar Reed, aka the source of my torture, towered over me with his 6 foot 3 inch height and muscles to match with cropped brown hair and a big scar down his left eye. With him was a man who appeared to be in his mid 40s with greasy brown hair and a lecherous glint in his eyes. Did I mention I'm only 22? I've been at this since I was 16. It's been 6 years of absolute hell, but I had no escape.

I forced myself to give a small smile turning my large sky blue eyes to my latest "customer". "I'm so sorry, sir. I'll be sure to make it up to you," I said seductively, standing in front of the man in my dark red, skin tight dress that left literally nothing to the imagination and placing a hand on his chest before suggestively moving it down and stopping at his navel when I heard his breath hitch. I smirked before quickly bringing my knee up and striking him with my knee as hard as I could directly into his groin. The man doubled over in pain, and I went to run but a strong hand grabbed my arm and roughly threw me to the ground. I gasped losing my breath at the sudden force and braced myself for the punishment coming to me.

I was surprised when I heard an annoyed sigh. I looked up to see Friar with a smirk on his face and the man who I attacked being taken outside by Friar's cronies. I looked at him nervously. "That's the 5th one this week, 'Ryn. We're starting to lose money because of ya," Friar sighed and looked at me irritated, "but ya've yet to be able to escape. Have ya not learned your lesson yet?" His tone was off putting so was his choice of words... He called me something other than bitch, and he's speaking somewhat kindly to me. What the hell is going on here?...

"Look I'm gonna level with ya, 'Ryn, we can't exactly afford to keep having ya scare off customers, and we aren't big on killin' people. But we can't exactly let ya just run off. It would ruin our reputation, so I have a preposition for ya," Friar says looking at me sternly as his two cronies enter into my room, with one smoking a cigarette and the other holding a bottle of some sort of strong alcohol that I could smell across the room. I raise my eyebrows and my mouth opens in shock. "W-what is it?" I asked, trying not to show my excitement. I desperately wanted out of this hell. Friar smirked at me as one of his cronies grabbed me and forced me into a chair in the room and held my arms behind my back. I struggled against him, but my 5 foot frame just didn't have any say against this hired muscle. I gasped slightly when I saw that Friar had a 2 inch blade in his hand, and his other thug stood blocking the door.

"Here's the deal, 'Ryn. I'm gonna inflict some pain on ya for 2 minutes, and if ya can get through it without making a sound, ya can leave okay? But ya also have to not tell anyone what happened to ya or where we are," Friar informed me, his smirk growing ever wider like the sadistic asshole he is, "If ya were to tell, we would find out, and ya would be brought back just like that." I gulped slightly before taking a deep breath and looking Friar straight in the eye with fierce determination before making the statement that would act as catalyst for the worst 2 minutes of my life, "Deal."

And with those four letters, my life became a living hell worse than I had previously imagined, and I began counting seconds the best I could. It started with an excruciating burning sensation on the back of my left shoulder. I bit my lip to avoid making a noise and looked back to see that the bastard behind me had put his cigarette out using my bare skin. My focus on that was interrupted by a strong knee to my stomach followed quickly by a strong right hook to my face. I heard a loud crack as an explosion of pain erupted in my jaw, but I still remained silent. I felt more burns in my back as the crony behind me apparently must've been relighting and putting out that same damn cigarette in my back. Tears filled my eyes as I squeezed them shut to try and ignore the pain I was experiencing. 1 minute left. I could do this.

Suddenly, I began to feel sharp pains along my legs as I opened my eyes to see Friar stabbing my legs repeatedly with the knife he was carrying. Darkness began to cloud my vision, but I was almost free so I forced myself to stay awake and silent throughout the torture. 20 seconds left. "Now, we just have to make sure that ya can never utilize this pretty little face and hair of yours," I heard Friar say tauntingly before cutting my waist length copper auburn hair to my shoulders roughly with his knife, slashing my back and shoulders simultaneously. The pain was bad but not the worst they had inflicted thus far. I felt the hold on my arm loosen, and I started to think I was done and looked only to see the cigarette crony grab the lower part of my right arm and lift his leg and stomp on it. That is what nearly broke me as I felt the bones break in my arm. 5 seconds left. This had to be it right? If they did anymore, I was actually going to die.

"Bitch, look at me," I heard Friar say from in front of me. I looked to the front of me just in time to see the knife come down across the right side of my face and through my eye. The pain was excruciating. I bit through my lip at this point and blood started coming out. As if this wasn't enough, every wound on my body felt as though it was set on fire as I felt a liquid run down my body. That bastard with the alcohol. He poured it over me. 0 seconds left. I didn't make a sound, but I felt like I would pass out from the pain. Thank the Walls... I survived. I was free.

"Oh by the way, ya can have a 5 minute head start to escape before we come after ya," Friar said with a malicious smirk. My uninjured eye widened. They lied. I mean of course they did. I'm a moron, but maybe, just maybe, with a 5 minute head start, I could find help. I had no other option. I shakily stood up. My entire body was in excruciating pain, and I whimpered with each step, but somehow I could walk. I made my way to the door and out of the brothel as quickly as I could. I looked around the dark and depressing underground.

There was no way to tell the time down here, but I knew if I stayed in the Underground, I was screwed. Friar had way too many connections down here. I had to find a way to get above ground. Maybe I could contact my older brother once I got up there. I looked around and saw a stairwell along with a sign with an 11 carved into it. My vision was getting blurry. 2 minutes left. Stumbling along as quickly as possible, I made it to the stairwell. Oddly enough the guards were not there. I looked to the square nearby and saw them harassing some of the locals. Good luck for me. Bad luck for them.

Suddenly I heard "Time's up 'Ryn! We're comin for ya!" Shit. I was supposed to have a minute left. Of course they didn't play fair. I stumbled up the stairwell as quickly as possible while only being able to see out of my left eye which was starting to be covered from the blood I could only assume was pouring from a head wound. I finally reached the top of the stairwell. As I started to lose consciousness, I found myself surrounded by military police who I was certain would send me back down to my death. With my last remaining strength I called out in desperation...

"Help... My older brother... is... officer... Survey Corps... Scouts... Help..." And with that, everything went black...

Song: Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You) by Kelly Clarkson

Edited: 03/23/2020