After an indeterminable amount of time, though it certainly felt like many days, the door reopened for the first time. By this time I was indeed weak from starvation and my will had been mostly broken. My time consisted of plotting elaborate escape attempts thst were impossible to execute while strapped to an asylum bed, and despairing the reality of my situation.
When the original nurse entered I glowered at her, my fear having turned to resentment while I was left to brood in my cell. She came in even more warily than before. She was carrying a tray and I stiffened apprehensively at the sight of it.
"It's okay. I'm just here to bring you some food."
I must've visibly relaxed at hearing those words, because she immediately added: "Oh, so you do understand, huh?" in that soft, mellow voice of hers.
I greedily devoured the bowl of soup and the accompanying bread that she fed me bit by bit. I was careful to behave well. After all, there was truly no sense in biting the hand that feeds you - literally!
● ● ●
As the days went by I became increasingly homesick, but at the same time my relationship with nurse Nika continued to grow. She fed me every day, to the point where I allowed her to enter without a fuss. I often heard her chase other staff members away as they were about to enter my room, citing "You'll only scare her! She only trusts me to feed her." as a reason.
Eventually my arms were freed from their restraints as soon as I proved myself to be tame enough to warrant it. This allowed Nika to start wgat was called 'reconditioning therapy' with me. I was still tied to the bed by my one leg, though.
I was given stacks of paper and crayons. Nurse Nika encouraged me to draw and was very pleased with the pictures of wolves that I gifted to her. I imagined her reporting to the doctor that I must have spent the first several years of my life being raised by humans, since I was so adept at holding crayons and using them to communicate.
I must admit, though, that it gave me a certain sense of twisted pleasure to know that they still remained speculative over whether my muteness was physical or phsycological.
I have now come to a sort of mutual understanding with nurse Nika, though I still longed for the fellowship of my wolves. I knew deep down that the eventual plan of my 'caretakers' was to reintegrate me into a civilised human society. That was not the future I want for myself. They did not not comprehend the concept of me making the choice to become a feral child by running away from home.
For the last few days, I have devoted my time to writing down my life story. Perhaps nurse Nika will like mg memoirs and will find it surprising that I am able to write instead of just communicating through the drawing of pictures.
I am ill. My body must have become unused to the human diseases since I had spent so much time isolated from any people.
I have diligently been hiding this fact from everyone up till now, for I knew all the doctors would succeed in curing me and so I would go back on the path to living as a human again. I truly feel as though the only way I could ever be content with my life is if I was back in the forest, with the fresh air in my lungs and my pack by my side.
I can feel my throat closing up as I write this. I suspect that this night might be my last...
At least I've now recounted my life... before death.