Prompt: Family. (Continued from Day Four - Spicy Mustard)
I had woken up in a dark, windowless prison cell with no recollection of anything at all, and a steady drumbeat pounding out two words constantly in my head. That was the extent of the company I had. Days upon days fell one upon another, until time grew so long I felt there was no method in which to measure it. It was strange...for a length of time danced past me, and yet I did not grow tired or hungry. I was confined to a chair that restricted an movement, even the most subtle of motions. Perhaps I am a criminal. Will I ever know?
I feel as if I have aged so much whilst enclosed in this prison; physically, I'm still eighteen, but my heart...my heart beats as if it knows the pain of a thousand lifetimes. I am an old soul now. I am no longer young, and I am not sure I will ever understand why.
My brother. I think of him often, trying to recall his face, his name. What he means to me. I wonder what life was like for us before I was imprisoned. Though it seems as if I've all but forgotten. I have decided, after much thought on the subject, that one's family is essentially the basis of one's identity. Common knowledge, I would expect, but it may be the reason why I have forgotten myself - because I cannot remember my family...at least, that is my theory.
I would give anything to see my brother again.
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