Weed (define): Any undesirable or troublesome plant, especially one that grows profusely where it is not wanted.
I looked at the words slowly, knowing they were meant to hurt, but instead I felt my eyes opening. Maybe I was a weed. I knew I wasn't wanted, but still I deliberately grew, rooted strong.
That was it. I was a weed in a garden full of bright, proud flowers. But I was a lovely weed, and that was how it was.
My eyes fluttered open, striking through the darkness. I grit my teeth as a pang from hunger struck my stomach like a blunt knife. My wrists chaffed against the cold iron cuffs that held me to the grimy stone wall. Head pounding, I sat up from my thin, flea-riddled mat. Better than nothing, I reminded myself.
Through the dim shadows, I made out a drip of water falling to the floor, splashing into a tiny pool that had grown from years of erosion in the stone. I weakly dragged myself over to the sustaining liquid and lifted my face to the cave ceiling, leaving my mouth agape to catch a few drops.
The droplet hit my tongue like a tsunami, rolling over it in all directions, moistening it and creating a tingling sensation. It was wonderful, and I reminded myself to be grateful I even had this luxury.
Suddenly, I was alerted by a tiny, obscure clicking on the stone floor. My head jerked in the direction of the sound. After a moment, I realized that this was the sound of claws. Two giant, yellow eyes broke through the shadows to greet me.
Hello, Dynasty, I thought as the black cat came close and rubbed against me. Dynasty was silent, although I imagined in my head a smooth voice saying "And hello to you, Clover."
I sat back on my heels, stroking my only friend under the chin where a patch of white had been expertly placed. My efforts were rewarded with a near-silent, rumbling purr.
As a bright light flooded into my cell, blinding me, I felt the fur slip away. Dynasty dashed into the safety of dark corners. I, however, was forced to face this fearsome figure alone.
As my eye adjusted to the new brightness, I heard a figure saunter over to me, his heaviness nearly shaking me. His huge, meaty, rough hands grabbed at my wrists. I heard the clicking of a key in my cuffs. Without warning, I was freed of my bondage. What a surprising feeling. Cool air ran over my wrists where blood before had been afraid to flow.
A deep, husky voice informed me, "The Mistress has decided to free you today."
Free me? Whatever did he mean by that?
"Pardon, Bakil?" I said cautiously.
"She is releasing you from your cell today," he repeated, annoyed.
I went limp. This was perhaps as shocking as being told that you have just become immortal - or perhaps, more accurately, that you are about to be impaled with a huge metal stake.
Free me. She couldn't! My mind raced, as I went over how, although this was a miserable existence, it was ten times better than being out there. I had been away from them for so long... the outside world didn't seem like even a possibility. I couldn't leave! I would die. I cannot leave. I cannot.
"I cannot leave this place," I stated my thoughts aloud.
But my words fell dead upon his ears, and he walked through the doorway.
"Bakil, listen to me! I cannot leave!" I stomped my foot, tears breaking through. "I cannot!"