“No more secrets,” I agree, bending down to press my mouth against the crown of her head before I tell her our last one.
I’m in a windowless room.
I have been for days. Maybe even weeks. Hard to tell when there’s no sky.
I like when it’s dark because that means they’re gone. That means that, for a little while at least, I can try to sleep. Can try to remember the words in the stories my mother used to read to me when I can’t. Say them over and over again because that voice feels stronger than my own.
I think she’d be proud of me still. She always was. I think she’d forgive me still. She always did.
I hadn’t known what I was signing up for. Had liked the idea of causing a little destruction, of taking something that didn’t belong to me but didn’t belong to them either. I liked the idea of not being alone anymore.
How long has it been? Two years since I ran away from home, and I still wonder sometimes if I can run back.
Everything hurts. Everything hurts so much, but at least itmeans I’m alive.
They think they’re punishing me, teaching me my place by keeping me locked up in here, making me crack with every line they carve into my skin. And I think it frustrates them when every time that I answer, it’s the same as before. Even when I’m screaming it.
“Where did you take them?”
“Away.”
“Where did you take them?”
“Away.”
I know it pisses them off. And I like that.
I hadn’t minded when we were only stealing things. Stealing money from pockets and stagecoaches and trains. I minded a lot when they started stealing people. Stealing lives. Started thinking that it was right to drag them away like they were also just another piece of property.
I really, really hadn’t cared for that.
There’s water somewhere in this room but I can’t reach it. Can only hear itstap, tap, tappingas it falls onto the hard ground. At least it’s something. At least it’s some company until I can finally fall asleep and see them again.
Whenever I fall asleep, I’m not alone anymore. I’m back outside. I’m back under the stars, sitting in an open field as I watch them. They’re so vivid that it never feels like a dream. Feels less like one than when I’m in this room.
The wolf appeared first. Tall and menacing looking as he sat in the field, too. Staring at me with his head tilted to the side as if he’s also trying to figure out why I’m here. As if he’s not sure why he is either, but now that he is, he won’t leave my side.
The bird appeared second. Little and quick. Racing through the sky as she sings a song I like to hum back to her, flying up into the stars before finding her way back. The wolf likes to watch her as much as I do, even likes it when she stops andsettles herself in his thick fur with no concern for his teeth.
I seem to see them more and more now. Seem to be able to stay asleep longer, and sometimes I think I’d like to just stay here entirely. But, I think that maybe if I do, they’ll be trapped, too
The wolf bares his teeth and growls, the little bird diving toward me with a sharp cry right before I’m pulled away again. A long sharp pain running down my side, over my ribs, but I don’t even flinch. I only wait.
“Think he’s dead.”
“Is he? Good fuckin’ riddance.”
“You wanna go tell the boss?”
“Everyone’s sleepin’.”
“Well, go check.”
The door opens again, then closes, leaving us with only the light of his lantern. Easily extinguished with a well-placed kick from a supposed corpse before everything is plunged into darkness. He screams, but I don’t. Not anymore.
I must nick my wrist when I finally manage to cut the ropes free. Hard to tell when there’s already so much blood. When everything already hurts. Means I’m still alive. Humming a bird’s song as I walk out into the night with a dead man’s pistol.
Means I’m still alive.