Free Write Friday ~ Love Letter

It was the smell, more than anything, that woke me up. Dank, damp, as though I had been slumbering in a grave dug for another.

Head pounding, I pulled myself into a sitting positing. A lumpy, musty mattress cushioned me from the cold, and as I tried to figure out whether my eyes were even open, they slowly began to adjust to the little bit of light that was filtering underneath an ancient door, dancing across a floor that was nothing but earth.

My body ached, and I knew, had the I the light to see, that I was bruised and broken. I could feel welts stinging across my back, the shirt that was not my own, sticking, pulling dried and crusted blood, opening the wounds to only bleed again.

My hands flailed against a nothingness that could be felt, and fear made by breathing ragged.  My last memory, coffee on the corner of Duke and Whales, an old high school friend and giggling over life's tough lessons.  I had a feeling, I was about to learn my toughest one yet.

Without warning, my hand brushed up against a shadow darker than the black that surrounded me.  A table, nothing more, nothing to to fear.  And now...a piece of paper? A note perhaps?  I held the frail page in shaking fingers. Pointless really, without the light to read.

A rustling came from the other side of the large wooden door, and hinges sounded in retaliation, squealing against the pressure that was cutting light suddenly throughout the room. I did not want to see this. I did not want to know who was coming through that door.  Disoriented, confused, I had enough reason left to know that fight was not an option, and flight would do me no good. I flopped back down on the stinking, filthy mattress, ignoring the pain as it tore through my back, and closed my eyes to complete darkness.

I heard the shuffle of feet against the soil. Could see in my mind the dust that would be stirred up from the dry earth.  I struggled to gain control of my own breathing, as the sound of it's became overwhelming.

Closer now, wet, dripping. I could feel the presence standing over me. I flinched, as I felt warm drops against my bare skin. This was not happening. Not to me. What I hoped was a hand caressed my bare leg, back and forth, as I fought the urge to open my eyes, to pull away, to just out right scream and run.

There was a low growl, resonating throughout the room, as the petting continued. I grappled with what little bit of sanity I had remaining, my mind pulling up memories. Family...friends...would I see anyone ever again?

Again, the shuffle, as the thing suddenly stopped and pulled itself away, back to the door.  Again, the squeaking hinges, and then, again, the silence.

It took forever to convince myself that I was okay. Forever, to slowly open one eye at a time.  When I did, the golden glow of a kerosene lantern gave me my first look at the surroundings. A glass of murky water now stood by the note I had thrown back on the table. Gray and silted, as though it had been collected from the very walls that surrounded me. It was a whole in the ground, dirt walls, dirt floor. My shaking hands reached out to grab the note.

In the scrawl of a child, my name danced at the top of the page.

...not anymore will you hurt.
...not anymore will you cry.
...here you will learn how to love
...and then you will see me

The note slipped from my numb fingers...and I slipped away.

Okay, Kellie Elmore...I'm a poet, not a fiction writer...but this is what fell from my pen with the Free Write Friday prompt at Magic in the Backyard. Come on over, have a read of the prompt, and let's see what YOUR pen brings to the party!