Jailed Heart

Chapter 1

The cold metal cuffs clinked as they close around my wrists. I wince as the metal pinches my skin and a rough iron hand shoves me forward. "Watch it!" I hiss, my words slicing through the silent room. Almost immediately, a gun is raised and balanced against my temple. I slide my lips shut firmly, indicating that I will not say anything more. The gun is slowly removed from my face and secured back into the guard's holster. I am traipsed into an open room filled with other women. The handcuffs are swiftly removed, and the huge door swings shut behind me. The women glance up at the newcomer before getting back to removing their clothes. I glance around warily and identify the room as the showers. I peel off my top and pants, and join the queue for the shower that has snaked all the way back to the door. Old women, young women, children even, mill around silently, too afraid to utter a word. I clear my throat but keep my lips pursed shut. Once my shower is done, a female guard enters the block and chucks us some dirty brown jumpsuits. Women stumble over each other to reach them, whilst a few others, including me, patiently wait till the crowd thins. I collect a jumpsuit and slide it onto my body, grimacing at the pungent smell that curls under my nose. A collection of guards enter, and inspect us before clasping handcuffs on and stomping us back toward the door. As I enter the corridor back to my cell, I catch eyes with a young man. His eyes twinkle with life in such a depressing place, and his curly hair sits styled perfectly atop his head. He sees me watching him and offers a smile. A gasp echoes out of my mouth and my heart catches in my throat. His smile turns to confusion, before a wall separates us.

I am chucked back in my cell, and the screams of women being torn away from their children vibrate through my brain. I roll up into a ball on top of my threadbare bed whilst images of the young man swirl in front of me. I block him out. Best to forget him. Best to never remember that strange spark that had flown in those mere seconds.I am awoken by a large crash outside my cell door. A guard slides a plate underneath my cell and I stretch my trembling hands out eagerly. A piece of overly melted cheese seeps out of a damp piece of bread. But I scoff it down quickly. The cell doors open and I step out. It's Sunday, my only free day in this hellhole. Without thinking I run toward the double doors that have been opened. My bare foot makes contact with the grass and I scrunch my toes revelishing it. I spin around two times, a smile dancing on my lips before I startle. Him. The man from yesterday stands with a group of men, all chuckling together, in a focused conversation. He looks over and I twist my body around so my back faces him. I shut my eyes and count down the seconds till I will swivel back around, like nothing happened. In the midst of my counting, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around in surprise and my eyes widen.

The man stands directly in front of me. His blonde hair sways in the wind and his blue eyes dance with humour. My knees start to buckle, and he reaches out his strong arms to catch me. I find myself trapped within his arms. His hand grips my lower back, supporting me from toppling over. I sit there, staring at the ground, my cheeks pink. He slowly hauls me to my feet, and I regain balance. We are so close. My breath is still trapped in my throat. "Um, are you alright?" He asks. His voice is gentle, and reminds me of birds dancing through the air, but also has a strange tinge of power to it. "Y-Yes, y-yes fine thank you." I muster. He nods and clears his throat awkwardly. We stand there, silence stretching out between us. He runs his hand through his hair. "So um...." I sway on my feet, not taking my eyes off the ground. "Thanks for catching me" I say, straightening up to be level with him. He nods "Of course, any decent man would do it". I suddenly scowl, "Don't flatter yourself." His smile never hinders and he gazes me up and down. "Nice attire" he smirks. I roll my eyes and cross my arms defiantly. I silently curse myself. Why am I being so rude to this captivating man? A defensive mechanism? I tug myself back to the present. The man is now staring off into the distance. "Um, I need to get to dinner" I start to turn away but he reaches out and takes hold of my wrist. I swing back around. "Wait, what's your name?" He asks, his voice velvety smooth. I gulp. I could make up one, I could say my name was Petunia, or Martha-no, that would be lying to a man that has shown me kindness. "Avery." I say. He nods and mumbles it over and over to help him remember. "Nice to meet you Avery, I'm Francesco but you can call me Frankie." I nod and he slowly lets go of my wrist. "Bye" I murmur before I twist around and follow the long line of men and women making their way to the mess hall.