I locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. Childish, I know, but I didn't want any human interaction for a while. I was confused and when I was confused, I tended to panic. I didn't understand why it was just something that happened. I did freak out, I had locked myself in my room, right? I immediately started searching for the camera that Edward must've put in my room. After 20 minutes I found it: embedded in my door frame. Go figure. I flipped the camera off just in case if he was watching me at that particular moment.

Once finding the camera, I decided to let it be for now. I'd deal with it when I felt like it. Picking up my book, I continued to read from where I left off.

"Lying in a featherbed will not bring you fame, nor staying beneath the quilt, and he who uses up his life without achieving fame leaves no more vestige of himself on the earth than smoke in the air or foam upon the water."

I kept reading until I had finished the book. I felt a bit put out that I wasn't able to read the next part, Purgatorio. I simply didn't have it. Despite what Edward had said about Inferno, I was certain that he had a copy of the next two parts of The Divine Comedy. He had to with all the books he had.

I got bored quickly with nothing much to do after finishing the book so I picked up another one to read. This time it was Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There. I didn't particularly like it, so I didn't know why I was reading it. I ended up just flipping through the book but paused when I came across a passage about the White Queen.

"Living backward!" Alice repeated in great astonishment. "I never heard of such a thing!"
"- but there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both ways."
"I'm sure mine only works one way," Alice remarked. "I can't remember things before they happen."
"It's a poor sort of memory that only works backward," the [White] Queen remarked.

Hadn't Richard compared me to a White Queen? Not the one in the story specifically, but it couldn't be a coincidence, could it? If I had any semblance of an electronic device, I would've been able to look up more information. Sadly, I did not. I was effectively cut off from the rest of the world. Not that I hadn't been when I was with Bruce and Richard, at least then I was able to go online and what not.

Sighing, I shut the book and put it away. My eyes strayed to the coffee stained clothes that I still hadn't washed since two days ago. I remembered then that I had made a note to write down everything that Barbara had told me. Come to think of it, I had a lot to write about. Maybe when this was all over I could publish it. Grabbing a notebook and a pencil, I got down to writing everything I could remember since my kidnapping and anything I thought pertained to it.

That took me right up until dinner when Selina came up and tried to get me to come down to eat. But talking to a mute person through a door was like, well, talking to a door.

"Ridley," Selina said. "Won't you come out and eat with us? Edward said that you were holed up in your room for most of the day."

I continued writing and dutifully ignored her.

"It's not good for you, you know." She continued through the door. "Being in there the whole time. Nothing will get accomplished."

And what types of things do I have to accomplish? I silently asked. I'm stuck here doing nothing.

"Are you going to open this door?"

No.

"You can't stay in there forever."

Yes, I can. I was being stubborn and I knew that it wasn't fair to her, but I didn't want to go out.

"Fine," Selina said, sounding clearly frustrated. "Stay in there and I'll bring your food up to you. But this won't happen again, alright?"

Whatever.

I heard Selina walk away and rolled my eyes. She was certainly the only mother figure I'd ever had in my life, but that didn't mean that it wasn't annoying. She tried to coddle me one moment and then was lecturing me the next.

I thought about Edward and Jon and how they acted towards me. Jon hated me for whatever reason, though that reason might be a bit clearer now and Edward... He was the one behind my kidnapping but, he'd been nice to me from the start. When I'd escaped he didn't yell at me when he found me, he'd be concerned. And not about me going and telling the authorities about where the warehouse was. He was concerned about me as a person. If I was alright.

And because of how Edward treated me, Jon hated me for it. I smiled slightly when I thought about it. They'd be cute together. If Jon could stop being an ass and quit harming Edward, both verbally and now physically. Not that the Batarang was his fault, it had been Edwards choice to take the hit.

It made me a bit sad when I thought about it. They all had each other and I didn't have anyone. For the first time in a while, I wished that I could speak. This muteness was just a barrier that kept me apart from people. The doctors told Bruce that nothing was wrong with my vocal chords but clearly something was wrong, I couldn't speak! If it wasn't my vocal chords, then what was it?

Was it psychological? I read something about that once when I was looking up the possibilities of why I couldn't remember anything from before Bruce found me. I could probably as Jon since he technically was a psychologist, but I'd rather not know then ask him about it.

After a while, I went and opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was empty but there was a tray of food left for me outside my door; I almost stepped on it.

Picking up the tray, I went back into my room. The smell of chicken made my stomach growl. I briefly wondered who made it, but then dismissed the thought. It didn't matter. I had food, that was the only thing that did.

Sitting down at my desk, I began to devour it. In a few short minutes, I had completely finished my dinner and knew that I would probably pay for it later. I always got an upset stomach whenever I ate to fast, but I couldn't help it this time around. Who knew that being in my room for the whole day would work up an appetite? I left my plate on my desk deciding to bring it back downstairs in the morning and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Brushing my teeth I stifled a yawn. Tomorrow I would apologize for how I'd acted and explained why. The whole thing bothered me and would keep bothering me until I cleared it from my conscious. Though I wasn't one to hold a grudge, I kept things in my mind that gradually began to eat away at me from the inside.

I pulled on a pair of pajamas and crawled into bed, hoping that I wouldn't have any bad dreams. But like usual, I rarely got what I wanted.