The only other person in the cell with him was a small girl. She couldn’t of been any older than ten. Her hair was dirty blonde, cropped short; messy. She had bright blue eyes that stared into nothing. Sometimes when she looked at him, chill prickled his skin. It was like she was looking right into him. It was until later, that he found out she was blind. That comforted him a little, but he still couldn’t help the feeling of uneasiness her stares gave him.
One morning, he found her sitting in the opposite corner of him. Her back towards him. She was facing the wall. And while doing this, she was tracing something with her pointer finger against it. Up and down, over and over; again and again. Adam watched her do this for minutes. Those minutes became hours, then the hours became almost a day. Finally, mid-afternoon, he decided to ask her what exactly she was doing.
“What is it that you’re tracing over there?” He asked. The girl was silent. She continued moving her fingers over the wall. It was like she was writing invisible letters that only she could read.
“I’m writing.” Was all she said. She was very much focused in what she was doing.
“What are you writing?” He continued, hoping she would give him a better answer. He heard her sigh. Her finger stopped moving, and she turned towards his voice. She blinked.
“I’m writing to the monsters,” she said matter-of-factually. “They keep bothering me, so I’m telling them to go away.”
“Oh, really?” Adam replied. This sounded like a child’s game to him. Whatever helps you sleep at night, he thought to himself.
“Yes.” She said. “It’s awfully painful — what I have to say to them.” She slide herself back around and started to write once again.
He tilted his head, “What is painful?”
The girl sighed again, her hand paused. “You ask too many questions, sir. This is common knowledge.”
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’d just really like to know what you’re up to. You seem really focused on doing it. It was true. He was quite curious. Of course, there wasn’t much other things interesting going on in the cell.
“The things they make me promise are painful,” the girl finally said. “They make me say bad things.” Her voice went down to a whisper.
Adam moved closer, and craned his head over. “Bad things?”
“Yes,” she agreed. Her hand started to move again at a quicker pace.
“Like what?”
“They tell me to say who will die next. Who to sacrifice. Who I want dead.” This sent cold air down Adam’s spin. “It’s a big pain. I don’t like choosing that kind of stuff.”
He swallowed. “Wh-what are you telling them today?”
The girl glanced back, her face grim. The blue eyes were point towards the cell walls, but he felt like they were looking at him. Right at him. “Some guy named Adam,” she said. His breath stopped. “He’s dying next.”
Adam’s eyes widened. No. That wasn’t possible. This girl was lying. She had a big imagination. A imagination that was perhaps a bit messed up. But how did she know your name, his mind whispered back. How did she know his name? Just an odd coincidence? No. That wasn’t possible.
Sweat started to drip down his forehead. If he was going to die, when would it be? Tonight, tomorrow, in a week? Will he just wait for it to come?
He shook his head.
No. He can’t believe this girl. He glanced over at her, she was still writing. “Can you tell when they will die?”
The girl stopped. She turned around with a smile. “I can’t predict the future, silly. I leave that decision to the monsters.” His throat was dry. He took in a deep breath. That wasn’t much help. It actually wasn’t any help at all. Who were these monsters anyways? Just a stupid thing the girl came up with? Maybe. Possibly. He hoped it was.
The girl started to laugh. Adam looked over in confusion. “Oh, how funny,” she cried. She looked up and down the wall. Her eyes scanned over it. She was reading something.
“What is?”
“They say it’s you. Your time is now.”
His heart stopped. He had a hand placed against his chest unconsciously. “What?” He started to breathing heavily. Black started to surround his vision. The girl was the only thing light in the room. The only thing he could see clearly. Her blonde hair…her blue eyes…that smile…
“It’s you–”
Everything stopped. Darkness.