Stars Through Iron Bars

Stars through iron bars. There isn’t anything more beautiful. I reach my hand up towards the window several feet above me. I like to imagine grasping the stars between my fingers, behind the bars. Thick rusty iron bars line the window. The only window in this place. This place in which I’d spent what must have been nearly a week now. I slide down the back wall of the cell still facing the window, curling my toes. Yes, it’d only been a week so far. I’d spend the rest of my life here, I thought with a wry smile. I must have jerked a bit too hard as I feel a pang right below my eye. I gently run my fingers over the spot my eye used to be. Blood. The scent of fresh blood is rather refreshing in the constant smell of rotting flesh practically stained into the walls. I let the blood slowly drip down into my lap. I look back up to the window. I smile. I got away.

Six weeks ago they found me. I was at home with my mother scrubbing at grime seeped dishes while she sat haughtily admiring her reflection. When they came my mother initially defended me. That was before they threw a pouch full of some form of riches at her. Then they whisked me away without problem. They didn’t speak a word towards me. But I knew what was to happen. I had known. I had been hiding. I was supposedly ‘blessed’ with golden eyes. Eyes that were the cure to almost any illness if used correctly. Everyone knew what happened to people like me. Strangers came and took the blessed away, leaving no trace behind. No one ever tried stopping them because well, it’s to cure illness. Who could ever argue with that. Those born with golden eyes were a necessary sacrifice. So they took me and shackled me to a chair. “You’re a lucky one you know. You get to live.” I didn’t entirely understand what the man meant. Those were the first words directed towards me since I had been taken. What was I meant to make of that? I soon found out; they weren’t using me to create cures. Because, lucky me, I was an experimental guinea pig. So for four weeks I was injected with every needle I could imagine. I’d flinch and scream as pain surged through my body as though my blood were poison. The strange people just watched me through thick glasses, taking notes. Every few days they’d cut out a new rugged chunk of flesh. Not minding the dull blades, clumsily digging into me. A week in, my once long silky blond hair started turning a murky gray. I started getting random spasms like I was repeatedly being stabbed by thick knives. I regularly coughed up blood. This had become the most regular occurrence but at times I thought I might drown in my own blood. I’d never imagined I’d have such thoughts.

One day I was left alone in the room. The restraints were unusually loose. Next to me was a little side table and on it a scalpel glinted in the sterile lights. My eyes lit up. This was my chance. I carefully inched the scalpel towards me using my pinky. Yes! I’ve got it. Next step. Fear started gripping me. No, no I have to do this. I took a deep breath, curling my toes. I held the instrument, pointing it upwards in my shaky hand. In a swift motion I bent forward and pierced my eye with the scalpel. I let out an abhorrent scream. It still rang through the halls as the guards all came barreling through the door.

They told me I was lucky I survived. I think I would’ve been lucky if I hadn’t. But nevertheless I was free. Free from the lab. Deemed useless without my eyes. Now I was to spend the rest of my days in this cell. I could still taste bitter iron from blood remnants in the back of my throat. I liked to listen to the water dripping from the leaky ceiling. It was peaceful. It made me forget where I was. Like I was listening to forgotten raindrops. Suddenly through the drips, I heard footsteps. I could tell they didn’t belong to a guard. The door creaked open, letting bright light leak in, and from it a tall slim silhouette. “Oh poor thing.” A mocking laugh rang out. “Did you really think we couldn’t make use of just one eye? Pity.” I scuttled back scratching my hands on the rough cement beneath me. The man chuckled at my obvious shock. He spoke again, this time to a guard, excitement in his voice, “Please be so kind as to escort it back to the lab. We have new and improved plans!” I struggled against the rugged hands restraining me. Tears mixed with blood as I left my last chance at freedom. I’ll forever be longing to see stars through iron bars.