It's raining today. The bleak midwinter wind rustled the very few leaves holding onto dear life on the bare trees, forcing the branches to sway violently. I felt a sense of déjà vu as the rain began to pick up, and pounded relentlessly at any available surface. The blossoming cyclamens were cowering by the sheer amount of force. I felt the sudden urge to be a part of the catastrophe occurring out there. It may be dangerous but an atmosphere of longing had been created and I wanted it. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to be it. I craved the feeling of water on my skin, I lived for it. I don't know where the desire originated from, but the burning need for water to engulf my body was hankering. Where showers usually subdued my desires, the effect wasn't the same anymore especially with the limited amount of water allowed to touch my body due to my slowly healing injuries. I didn't even know if I could swim! But that didn't stop my mind wandering to the thought of being immersed in a large body of water and allowing the strong currents to pull my body and thoughts away from the world.
I thought about it often. Too often. I had also concurred up wild theories as to why I felt like this. The most memorable being that I thought I was a mermaid that had been kept from her home too long, but that was probably the pain-meds talking. I do think it would be indescribable to be a different creature or species. To see the world from the eyes of an eagle or crocodile. I was infatuated by the thought.
But that's not possible in this world, more specifically the world in which I lie. A world in which, like Macbeth said, "I am cabined, cribbed, confined..." bound not by my saucy doubts and fears but by a physical sadist that thrives of the fear of his victims.
A cold shiver ran through me as I thought about him. He, who I hadn't seen in possibly 12 weeks, I had lost the will to keep counting the days. It was wrong of me but I hoped karma had reached him and he was injured or even better, dead. It would not only be the best for me but for the world. I strongly hoped to see his dull eyes lose whatever light, if he had any which I sincerely doubted, to dim. I had never felt so strongly about someone, or I don't think I have. The desire I had to see him die was comparable to my longing of water. No, maybe not water. Oxygen. Oxygen, the everlasting breathing device that provided all creatures the ability to live. Some creature that I believed didn't deserve the glories of life I.e., him but what can you do? Surely if God, has kept him and all other monstrous, immoral malevolent beings on this earth, then it's for a reason. I hoped.
It seems as though that's all I've been doing lately, hoping. Hope hasn't gotten me anywhere but kidnapped, tortured, whipped, drowned, deprived and a whole lot more. Action may have brought me whippings but I was getting closer to freedom, I could feel it. The wheels of a cart resonate in the halls. I still, listening for the heavy thuds of Igors boots, but only hearing a faint 'pitter' 'patter'. I release a sigh, my tense shoulders relaxing as I realise it's the old woman. I contemplate between pretending to be sleeping and sitting up, but before a conclusion is made the heavy wooden doors swing open. For such a little woman, I was still amazed by the sheer amount of muscular force her wrinkly arms held.
Her face was impassive. Her faint smile, ingenuine. Her white hair was tucked in a low bun. No strand was left out of place. Where, usually old people had difficulty moving and have a stick or walker as an aid, this woman progressed just fine. The cart she was pushing didn't alter or prevent her motion of moving. Her warm eyes assessed my body, looking for any signs of a leaked bandage. She slightly nodded, content with my physique and proceeded to measure my pills. My many, many pills. She had memorized the amount I was prescribed, so had I. It wasn't had to after going through the same routine for the past 4 months. She possessed sharp eyes, as I'd never seen her have to count my pills. A glass of water was placed in my hand, and I take a large gulp. The cold water sloshed around my mouth, coating my parched mouth leaving my tongue and throat damp which would aid in the swallowing of my pills. Or that's how I felt anyway. Down went the first two blue pills. Two greens, three whites and a red followed. Her soft fingers tapped my chin, and I opened my mouth wide. I twist and turned my tongue, while she moved her small torch around, pointing it at every nook and crevice. At first, I was conscious of whether or not my teeth had any cavities, but we had passed that stage now and I felt okay with her face down my throat. She retracts the torch and begins packing up. No words were shared amongst us as she left, and the 'pitter' 'patter' of her dainty shoes grew faint.
I was left alone, once again. The amount of time I was spending on my own was soon going to become my own hell. My mind ran like water, free and with no filter. Speaking of water, the rain was still going at it. Large puddles were bound to start forming with the rate in which it was going at. I stare down at my bed sheets. The bright brocade pattern made my brain hurt, as with every movement of my eyes a new sequence was discovered. I would hate to be the person that sewed it. The idea of sitting in one place and intricately plowing a needle in and out of a piece of cloth made me want to barf. I slump and stare up out my window again. I had nothing better to do anyway.