How many people would have turned and run away from life, if they had known the greatness of the destinies that stretched out before them? Brida shivered as the night closed in on the cell, reminding her that she had nothing but two thin blankets and a sorry excuse for a pillow in which to sleep. Still, she was thankful for that much. When she had been first placed in confinement, she had had only one blanket and no pillow. It had been punishment for her rebellious ways.
But how was Brida rebellious, if she could not help the things she did? How was it her fault, that she had to remain locked away from her own existence? Taking her place in one of the corners of the cell, so that she would have two walls to help trap her heat and keep her warm, Brida attempted to close her eyes and capture the sleep that had so skillfully eluded her for the past few days.
Presently, Brida drifted off to sleep. Her sleep was dreamless, or at the very least, devoid of dreams that she could remember in the morning. All she knew was that morning came too swiftly, robbing her of the temporary relief which sleep ushered in. And it was back to life again, back to living all shut-up inside a cell that no humane warden would ever let residents live in, anyways.
Humane. The idea tasted bitter on Brida's tongue. There was nothing humane about the asylum. Anyone who entered the place's cold, silver doors would immediately see how hopeless and chilling the asylum was. Not only were the resident's eyes vacant from lack of affection, but their hollow stomachs constantly complained of the lack of food within them.
But few ever came to visit the asylum. That was why nobody had spoken up about the conditions of the nightmares that the inhabitants were forced to experience.
Really, though, it could have been worse. Or so Brida told herself, as she yawned, stretched, and made a valiant effort at mentally preparing herself for the tenacious tediousness of the day that would ensue. No doubt, the following hours would be full of nothingness, and Brida was forced to accept that.
Either she would accept the monotony of the cell, or she would be punished for speaking out against it.
The light of day continued to pervade the darkness. A few ants, apparently who had forgiven Brida for the death of their cousin, ventured into the cell. Brida would not be alone that day.