The Prisoner's Daughter

Prologue

­Copyright © 2012 Emma Richards All Rights Reserved

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The rattle of key against iron bars brought consciousness to his blood shot eyes. He scanned the darkness of his cell and the bright hallway separating him from an armed thief. A warden stood at the gate of his pen, his bloated stomach pressed against the solemn bars, a ring of keys gleaming in his grimy fingers.

"Rise and shine, White." Bill, the warden, said with a gruff voice roughened by years of inhaling tobacco.

Darius rose from the thin mattress and smoothed down his jumpsuit. He followed the warden through the hallways, sunlight streamed through the small square windows punched into the thick cement walls, he squinted out at the late spring scenery.

"What's the date?" He asked Bill.

"The third of May." The warden replied.

Seventeen years, he thought, it had felt much longer. It was his little girl's seventeenth birthday, almost sixteen years since he had last seen her, his heart ached for her. He wondered if she had had a decent upbringing, if she had been adopted by a loving family, did she have any brothers or sister? Who was she calling dad now? There had been a time when he could hold her in his arms and almost hear a little voice calling him dad. The future had been exciting, slightly daunting, but his own. Now he had nothing to anticipate.  

There were times when he'd sit in his cell and long to be a child again. But the more he thought about his personal hell, he laughed at himself. It was ridiculous, why would he want to be back there? Why would he want to be back at Brightwick Manor? At night he'd trace his scars and relive the memories that haunted him.

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I know its short, there wasn't supposed to be a prologue but I just decided it was a better way to begin this story.

I'm hoping for this story to be dark and troubling, but with some beautiful moments.

Comment, vote and fan? :)