Liar. thief. traitor. coward. abused. abducted. Hated. Destroyed.
Inside the cell
I am a prisoner. In a kingdom I never knew about. This kingdom has been isolated from the rest of the world as I know it.
I have never seen the forests, or the mountains, or the oceans, that the guards of my prison cell speak so highly of. I wish I could see the beauty that has been so carefully described to me, for myself.
But more than anything, I crave freedom. For the past three years, I have been locked in this lifeless cell, away from the tribe I once belonged to, called Rhaviela. I don’t undertand exactly why, but this entire time, I have clung to some kind of hope that I would be freed; every time I hear footsteps coming down the steps to the dungeon. But sadly, it always meant a guard exchange. I wish I could give up on that hope of freedom, but it only seems to brow, no matter how far away it seems.
It baffled me, for every time I heard the light tread of feet coming down the stairs, my ears perked up.
I have never spoken to the guards, since theyve threatened me; that if I udder a single word, they’d somehow make my life more hellish than it already is.
But while they neglected to check what I usually did in the cell, I trained, to try to become stronger. To fight with and without weapons. I taught myself how to improvise with a dagger and sword, though I never really held one. I did my beat to exercise unnoticed, and all while any of the guards were either drunk, sleeping, or gambling.
All of the guards are similar, with there cold and icy stares and empty, rotting, dark hearts.
Though I think it seems that they are both lifeless and heartless, I know that it the dark corner of the small cell, even my life fades from existence.
“I doubt that the tribe noticed you were gone.”
“Maybe they celebrate your absence.”
“They think you dead.”
Voices in my head always spoke in my head. Most parts of me believed they were true. Some parts of me resisted from thinking about it. A small, naïve part of me believed that some day, I’d freely walk out of the cell. That I could return home, and be welcomed, even though I was not there when I was needed.
It was a hopeless and pointless thought, but it was the thing that kept me going.
To my surprise, the day actually came where I heard a new voice, similar to, if not, then the same voice that belongs to the man who captured me, a voice I have not heard since. I tried to give up on hope, and ignored him as best as I could.
It took me a moment to notice that he ordered me out of the cell, or that the cell door was wide open.
Create an account

Use this art for a:

Longform Book (multi-chapter)

Picture Book (multi-page)

Poem (single image)

Create an account to get started. It’s free!

Sign up

or sign in with email below