Crossing the Road
- Nov 2, 2018
Fred looked up as Kipp approached the table “hey. You okay?” Fred winced as he turned to look at Kipp. The deep slashes that the violent Whip has caused were very painful, even after a few days they still were weeping and bloody.No matter the exhaustion he felt Kipp wasn't able to sleep. Instead he laid curled up in his small cubby hole his eyes open but vacantly staring far past the stone wall in front of him. Their attempted escape played over and over in his mind, leaching away all hope of ever leaving this place.
Kipp flinched at the imagined screams of pain, tightening his hands over his ears in a pointless attempt to block it out. He'd accepted the overwhelming guilt he felt had been rightfully earned. He'd spent most of his life avoiding conflict, he knew better than to stand up for himself. And in this one instance he had selfishly only thought of himself and roped everyone else in with him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, begging his mind to stop. That it was enough. He knew he was wrong to have tried, to have had any hope at all of escape. They were going to be here forever.
The low rumbling of voices and movement from out side his small alcove slowly drew his attention. He had no desire to eat, but knew he had to go to the cafeteria, or be accused of trying to avoid work. Kipp crawled over to the edge sliding sideways onto the rickety ladder to climb down, his wings jumping out to keep him balanced as he descended.
The odd stillness in the large room, had him on edge, but his sleep deprived mind wouldn't supply an explanation.