Chapter 5 – Clouds and Poppies
Oh, flower of forgetfulness, just an hour away to the moon,
Take a deep breath if you are reaching for truth…
While you're in the stupor
the door knocks and death takes another youth.
Poppies, red poppies... red poppies...
A boy I used to know, a boy I used to know,
who's laughter rang to the skies
Was a joy to behold
Then I looked into his eyes, a look so cold… - Poppies by Nina Simone
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She hadn’t touched any meal they shoved in her cell through the small hole in her doors for two whole days. She hadn’t slept any in that time either. Being constantly in the state of fear was tiring and draining but at the same time, there was always something that was keeping her awake.
One of the reasons was some deep-rooted strength in her nature that was making sure she stayed guarded, protecting herself from harm that would surely befall her in a sleeping state.
Not that she could defend herself properly anyway… sleeping or not.
As much as this alertness helped her not to slip into those terrible nightmares, Buffy started to feel like she was dreaming alive, regardless. Every voice she heard - be it distant or just outside her cell - was either sharpened in her quiet solitude or it was muffled, unrecognizable. Mostly she thought she only imagined some of them, which was not a comfortable thought at all. She felt light headed and so very down-weighted at the same time…
Her eyelids were heavy and it was almost a painful relief whenever she allowed herself to blink. By this time, her blinks were gradually becoming longer in length, but she always pulled herself back into awareness before she would slip into numbing sleep any further.
It was getting harder to do so though. Every time she shook her head in desperate try to clear it, a powerful dizziness would swirl inside it, causing her to grip tightly at the hay - they brought into her cell a couple of days ago - just to feel somehow grounded in her vertiginous state…
Was it really a couple days ago since she was brought hay? She was not really sure. Buffy thought it to be that long ago. She couldn’t decide if the time went faster and rushing towards her doom - now that she knew the time she meets it - or passing slower in her already hell-like cell.
She did notice something though. They hadn’t come to strip her yet and she desperately hoped Lord Rayne was only mocking her with threats like that. Oh, how she wished it was so…
The only time when someone came in her cell, since Lord last time paid her a ‘visit’, was when they brought some handfuls of hay into her barren cell, for her to lay upon. As soon as the deed they set up to do was done, they silently crossed themselves and left her, all the while under watchful eyes of the guards that they were accompanied with. Including that tall man with a scar and a constant glare he wore for her.
And after that, visits ended, the only sign that she was not forgotten were bowls of food sliding into her cell from time to time.
Buffy did lie on the hay though, even if she didn’t sleep. The second reason for that, were the prickles of dried yellow grass upon her already too sensitive skin and they were not pleasant at all. She even at some point tried to cover it somehow with her skirt, for she had nothing else to stifle little stings with, but then she’d be too exposed as she soon noticed, and that just wouldn’t do.
So she endured the annoying itches, even if they were, in combination with her lack of sleep, fast in driving her mad. She just concentrated on enjoying the little warmth hay brought to her in the cold cell, even when she was fast approaching the point of screaming just because she felt like being suffocated by all of the little frustrations.
Her screams didn’t come though, nor did tears. There still were others, however. The screeching, echoing, horrifying screams… These screams were the third and the main reason why she hadn’t shut her eyes for longer than three minutes. They weren’t coming from her, though the agonizing cries sounded so near, that she’d thought they were happening in the next cell to her if she hadn’t known they were coming from the adjoined room in the far end of the dungeons. She saw some poor girl being dragged there, the whole procession of some men passing by her cell the other day, and the poor thing hadn’t left the room since.
Only her loud agonizing cries were any signs that she was still alive.
Only when Lord William Rayne was in that room, however, was when the sounds grew louder and so very anguished that Buffy hurt along with the girl, all the while silently praying for her. In her mind’s eye, she could easily imagine that beautiful face and eyes, that looked right into hers, as they all passed her cell, now scrunched up in pain and agony, her mouth open, shrieking…
When the first few minutes have passed since that girl was first brought there, Buffy curled herself into a ball while covering her ears. It didn’t help much. Now she just lay there, with dazed look in her eyes, staring into nothing while screams continued. Some foggy memories her company…
It was a bright sunny day, somewhere in the middle of the summer time. The air was filled with wonderful scents of wild flowers, blooming all around her in breath-taking colors, tickling her nose. Golden rays of warmth were caressing her skin, as Buffy watched up at the white puffy clouds above passing by, occasionally obscuring sun on their way, some faster than the other, but all of them held her young interest.
She lay in the midst of the tall grass in the meadow, obscuring her from the view of any unwanted eye as she observed the shapes that wispy clouds formed. They were never the same, always changing. In their cotton-like softness she saw animals, human faces and objects she saw in her everyday life. Birds. Stool. Horse with a crooked tail. Duck.
Some form even reminded her of some boy from the town, whom she liked, but only seen once, when she and Mother visited the town’s market place… but if she turned her head just a little, clusters of white smoke would change appearances and become a broomstick…or a tree.
Watching clouds was her favorite game.
Buffy sighed, contentedly.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a soft mewing sound, and Buffy felt a light nudge at her left hand. She peeked downwards and smiled broadly in surprise.
‘’Hey, Willow.’’ Buffy said quietly. She knew of this stray orange cat. It was very shy so she didn’t move at first; she didn’t want to chase her away. Buffy liked cats.
When the cat lifted her green-eyed gaze towards Buffy and then made a few tentative steps closer, softly padding among the long strands of trampled grass, Buffy still lay unmoving. The cat slowly treaded towards her face, all the while looking intently into her eyes, assessing her carefully, apparently, and Buffy hardly suppressed bubbling giggles that erupted from deep inside – she looked so adorable! Watching her all stern-like!
Then the cat softly purred, obviously satisfied in her assessment of the young girl and pressed with its wet nose at Buffy’s left cheek. Buffy gushed, reached towards it, and petted it between her ears. She was delighted that the cat was allowing her. It even climbed in her lap, mewing with its tiny high-pitched voice.
‘’You’re such a cute little kitty, aren’t ya?’’ Buffy pursed her lips and crooned as the cat leaned with all its small weight into her open palm and purred loudly with no end. ‘’Yes, you are! Such a pretty little girl…you want to watch the clouds with me, pretty girl?’’
‘’Are you talking to it?’’ Said the voice behind her and Buffy started, nearly yelped in surprise. When she looked up and squinted towards the face of the boy, she widened her eyes and sat straight up, unconsciously pressing the little orange ball of fur tightly to her chest. It was him!
‘’Y-yes. I-I am. Just talking to it. She doesn’t understand me, though. She is, that is, Willow, she is a nice cat…Willow…’’ the said cat now squirmed in her lap, trying to get away, uncomfortable of the new presence and the tight grip the girl had on her.
Buffy looked down and blushed, very aware of the green stains the grass left on her dress and had only hoped that her face wasn’t as dirtied as the last time she saw him… or that her hair wasn’t looking like a bird’s nest. She put the cat down and while it jumped back into the high grass, Buffy rubbed with finger at the green spots on her beige skirt, then stopped and just stared at it, unsuccessfully willing it to go away. She did not look up.
‘’Not as pretty as you are though.’’
Buffy looked up, surprised. Her heart swelled with giddiness and fluttering butterflies awoke in her stomach. She knew his name. His own Mother called it that day to bring his attention back to work… and Parker Abrams thought she was pretty? Her face hurt. Why did her face hurt??
Oh. She was grinning so hard that her ears were the only thing keeping her head from splitting wide open…and she probably looked like some crazy person.
‘’O-Oh? Really? You think I’m…um…p-pretty?’’ she bit her lip and her cheeks got even warmer. She stared into his eyes, unable to look away…
Parker chuckled. ‘’Yes.’’ He said, looking earnest. ‘’I always thought so.’’ He sat down beside her, not even asking for permission, but Buffy didn’t care… he always thought that she was pretty? But how if she only saw him once before?
Her thoughts were cut short as he sat down right next to her and she felt the heat in her body rise even further, probably her whole body was blushing…
‘’Your hair…it shines like golden wheat on the fields, caressed by the soft wind… and your blush is like poppies blooming in their midst’s…’’
Buffy was melting. His voice was so beautiful and she closed her eyes as he caressed her with it and paying her compliments. No other boy paid any attention to her before. She and her mother lived just outside the town, always holding more to themselves - her mother preferred it, though Buffy herself never knew why…
His voice was still there; this time talking about her skin… and suddenly there was something new. Something, that didn’t belong there… She opened her eyes in shock. Was he…touching her? She looked down and saw that he moved his hand over hers. She gulped. That was not appropriate, was it? But still, this was him! Parker Abrams! Who was leaning towards her, closed eyes and all...
She briefly smelled the odor of fish coming from him…
And then, he kissed her. A quick peck on her lips, really, but he hadn’t asked her first. Buffy was angry. This is not how good girls behaved. Her momma wouldn’t approve.
She pushed him away and he fell backwards, now lying just like she did before, on his back.
‘’W-what do you think you are doing, Parker?’’ she asked, breathless. And did she really push him away??
Parker eyed her with his big, wide open eyes in complete shock. Apparently, he never experienced a behavior like that from another girl. His light eyes turned into slits. He stood up, towering above her and snarled. ‘’Wasting my time, that is what.’’ He leveled her with a hard, menacing glare and spat out. ‘’Watching me, making me think that I want you. You must be a witch! Talking with cats, hiding in a tall grass, looking at the sky, talking to yourself! You are a witch! You and your mother, both! Nothing but disgusting witches, you two are!’’
He stormed off, even as she opened her mouth to whisper, horrified, ‘’I’m not a witch… … I’m not a witch…’’
She whispered it over and over again as she leaped up and ran home, her vision blurred. ‘’I’m not a witch…’’
‘’I’m not a witch! I’m not a witch!!’’
Buffy came back from her reverie, confused for a fraction of a second and then horrified anew.
The voices were even now coming from that torture chamber, along with Lord Rayne’s shouting words that she couldn’t understand clearly through the thick wooden doors.
Then suddenly, the voices stopped. Silence was booming and Buffy closed her eyes, curling into a tight ball in the hay. It was scraping her face and every bit of skin it had open access to, but she hadn’t cared. The girl is dead. She just knew it. She hadn’t confessed and now she was dead.
Buffy couldn’t help but admired the girl. She hadn’t broken down and lied, even though she was given so much pain. And Buffy knew the girl was innocent. If she were guilty, she’d confess, just to stop the pain.
And now she was dead. Buffy only hoped she’d be as strong as she was. Because she would not lie either. God, she really hoped she was strong enough…
The sound of heavy door opening was heard and Buffy started to tremble. Her whole body ached by now, just because of it being repeatedly and unstoppably shaking so hard all the time.
Heavy booted footsteps were approaching, along with quiet murmurs. She opened her eyes to see that two men carried the poor girl’s body out of the torture chamber and started to climb the stairs to the upper level with their cargo…
‘’You hadn’t eaten your meals.’’
The statement startled her. She was too preoccupied by watching the bloodied body in the soldier’s arms, so much so, that she hadn’t noticed Lord Rayne stopping at her cell. She closed her eyes tightly, honestly wishing she was still as oblivious to his presence, but one quick glance at him was enough.
His face, along with his hands and clothes, was bloodied. He had a long silver instrument in his hands, and it was bloody too, thin rivulets of fresh lifeblood were trickling down its length, pooling at his fingers that held it.
She whimpered and prayed silently for the poor girl’s soul.
The iron doors opened then and she curled in on herself even tighter, covering her eyes with her palms so she wouldn’t see him coming towards her.
‘’Up.’’
The word was simple. Commanding. It’s meaning clear. It was her turn now to be taken there…
TBC...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay in updates. It's pre-Christmas madness here and I'm still sick. As my migraines allowed me I wrote, but this chapter is not alot. It holds some pieces of the puzzle, but these pieces are small. I hope I didn't disappoint you. But really, as soon as my head stops hosting a death metal band, I'll update. In the mean while, I'll just try to edit future chapters in between these pesky headaches and update.
Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews you gave me in the last chapter! I appreciate each and every one of them.
Oh, and my Photoshop died along with my last PC...so I improvised with Painter for my banner... (I know.. I know...can't wait to get Photoshop back).
Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews you gave me in the last chapter! I appreciate each and every one of them.
Oh, and my Photoshop died along with my last PC...so I improvised with Painter for my banner... (I know.. I know...can't wait to get Photoshop back).
Chapter End Notes:
Like I said, not much and I'm sorry. For any grammar faults please contact me.
And do review... Your opinions matters and mean to me more than you'd know. :)
And do review... Your opinions matters and mean to me more than you'd know. :)