Dear journal,
So much has happened since last time I wrote.
I left off when the man, who later told me his name was ''Dreothorn'', choked me. As I woke up, I found myself staring at a ceiling. I took me a few moments to remember what had happened. I remembered seeing a burnt face with a scar going across it before fainting. My arm was hurting so much it was nearly numb. I sat up in my bed, trying to see where I was.
I was in a normal-sized room with two windows, a bed (the one I was lying on), a chest and a lit fireplace. A few minutes later, the man who had choked me entered the room and walked over to the chest.
'Are you still going to keep quiet?' He asked as he opened the chest.
'Maybe.' was my reply. I had trouble speaking because of my throat.
He walked over to me holding ointment and some bandages.
'Don't move or it'll hurt more.' He told me while taking my broken arm. Yeah, no kidding. My arm was probably purple and disgusting under my sleeve. I didn't want to check. Just as I was thinking about that, Dreothorn placed my arm back into its normal position. Ouch. I didn't let my pain show though. He wrapped up my arm with the bandages, and then rubbed some ointment on my neck and cheek where he had hit me.
‘Come and eat when you’re ready.’ He said when he was finished. He walked out of the room, leaving me dazed. I decided to think about my situation before going to eat. I was stuck in a house, or at least I guessed I was, and I was totally right, with a man I didn’t know, who knew who I was, and my good arm was broken. My chances of running away were quite thin. Fighting? In my dreams. Maybe I could talk my way out of this, but I doubt he’d let me go before I tell him about ‘’Hunter’’. In other words, I was screwed.
I walked towards the door, caught myself on the side of the bed before falling over, and continued my way trying to look graceful, hoping he hadn’t seen me. Thankfully, he hadn’t.
I entered a big room. There was a long table in the center, with a fair amount of food. On the other side of the room, there was a door slightly open. I went to the table, where he was standing, waiting for me. I was starving. I took a piece of bread.Dreothorn grabbed a jug from under the table and passed it over to me. I took it reluctantly and looked into it. I nearly sniffed it to figure out what it was.
‘’It’s water.’’ He said flatly. Oh. I drank it down straight.
‘’Now are you going to talk? He asked me when I was at the last bite of my bread.
‘’Maybe later.’’ I replied. My bread felt like cardboard in my mouth.
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Tinsith's diary: Captured, part III
Submitted by Tinsith on October 14th, 2013
