Harriet cackled, menace shining bright in her eyes.
“You fools really would do anything to cover up your failures.”
She eyed the handsome young man before her, tied to a chair writhing against the tight ropes. Who would believe that Harriet went missing? THE Harriet! Absolute bollocks! Men’s egos are too fragile she thought, they themselves have too much pride. Heads filled with alpha male bullshit, rejection seems to be too much to handle. She kneeled in front of him, so close she could feel his hot breath fan across her exposed throat. A lazy smile sliced across her innocent face. Something wicked burning in those emerald eyes.
“You think taking me hostage would sway my mind? Force me to accept a good for nothing proposal?” She all but spat, “ how does it feel to be tied to a chair against your will?”
She wanted to say much more, ask him how it felt to have your wrist chafed till they are raw and bleeding. For your bones to ache and throat ablaze from lack of water. Your own mind a prison to your fears fuelled by paralysing trepidation... Despite wishing to make him suffer, she stood up, and in one swift motion slapped him. Her own palm stung and his eyes welled with tears a small chuckle escaped her ruby lips. She turned and left the rotting cell but not before declaring her farewell.
“Sweet dreams.”
“No,” screamed Gretel.
“NOOOO,” she wailed bolting up into a sitting position. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead, and tears prickled her glassy eyes.
She tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her trembling arms around herself. She struggled to breathe as memories flashed behind her eyelids, flooding her mind like a dam cracked open. Screams echoed in her ears and old wounds ached, centuries could pass and she still would remember the horror etched on her brothers face. The realisation that he won’t live another day, feel the warm kiss of the sun on his skin, taste fresh bread... or see his sister.
It had been years, Gretel was a grown women, had a simple life. Yet at night she was still tormented by the brutalities her brother endured. She was still a little girl lured into the same trap every night.
She laid back down, staring at the cracked ceiling, her blanket coiled around her legs. A single tear ran down her cheek, leaving a hot trail in its wake.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
