The Importance

Little As It Seems

There are two carotid arteries in your neck. Generally, when they are both severed rather harshly, there is no chance of survival. You will bleed out in a short time and may not even feel the pain of your death. I learned this, from dying, of course.

My mind is stuck on the fact that I am dead. Nothing to it. Dead. Passed. Gone. There are so many superior ways to say that.

My body, on the other hand, is almost definitely convinced that I am most certainly and very much alive. Both are very conflicting things because I don't know which to trust. I am simply an observer, watching myself lying on a concrete floor in a dungeon.

Around my neck, I am coated in a thick layer of dried blood. My blonde hair is also capped with the dark substance, and with a start, I realize I will need to get new clothes or wash the ones my body has on.

Suddenly, I feel like I am being dragged back into myself as the cage of my prison is opened, and a familiar figure walks in and hacks until it seems like he will cough up his lungs.

"Hello, again, Alexia," the same grave voice croaks.

I summon the strength to prop myself up on my hands and scoot myself away from him. He appears friendly, but he cut my neck open like he was flaying a fish, so maybe I shouldn't trust him. My back hits the wall and I curl my knees into my chest and turn away, hoping to become as small as possible. 

"Oh, quit with that," he commands, summoning another round of coughs, " I can't hurt you now, the chain has already been broken and you can die.....how do I put this? Again and again and again. So on and so forth. Endlessly."

For the first time, he throws back the black hood of his cloak and takes his gloves off, setting them on the ground and dropping to his knees like a child. Everything he does kind of reminds me of one of my classmates or an excited child getting to go on his favorite theme park ride. He seems harmless enough.

He slit my throat. He let me bleed out. I am still alive though..... How?

I look at him and am taken aback. His voice seems to fit his face, which is wrinkly, baggy, and old-looking. He has a round belly that is a match for his hideous face. I can barely see his eyes because of the swollen skin around them. His hair sticks out in all directions reminding me of a crazy scientist or madman. He doesn't give the kind of impression I assumed he would.

"What do you want with me?" I spit, still hugging my legs as close as I can to myself. I know why aged men capture young girls though, and it never ends well.

"I will get you back to your temporary situation. I might even send your parents back with you," he croaks, in the same matter-of-fact tone he used before, as if he is undecided.

"But what am I even here for?"

"See, that is a great question! May I demonstrate something.....strictly to explain?" I am getting annoyed with his strange way of saying things and his whole character. He acts like a teenager.

"But why?" I fling my hands up, and he is close enough now he seizes my right hand.

I gaze at my wrist where his fingers are and jerk away, but his grip is too potent. I am forced to look at him in his suddenly distinguished face. All of his features have changed into a handsome boy around my age. He has striking green eyes. His disheveled white hair has now shifted into a messy light-brown hairdo. A strand of his new young hair sweeps in front of his eyes, which are alive now, excitement shining through his high and distinct cheekbones. His large lips are a light red and a perfect heart shape as one end curls up barely a little more than the other in a sort of diminutive smirk. The bone structure of his face is not skinny but broad and defined.