Page 2 of Delirium
Her clothes were too nice. She wasn’t starved, not like me. Her cheeks weren’t hollow. Her eyes still held the innocence I had lost long ago.
“Tell me.” She took two, then three steps toward me, the little pigtails tied on her head bouncing with each step. “Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad.” My voice was gruff. It had also started changing from the high-pitched boyish voice to this.
“Yes you are.” She was a stubborn little thing.
“And how do you know?”
“Your eyes.” She was now right in front of me. “Your eyes are sad. Why are your eyes sad?”
Jesus, kid, perceptive much?
“What are you doing here, kid?” I wasn’t about to start talking about my feelings with a kid.
“I’m just walking around the garden. My papa brought me here.”
Her father? My God, this was more fucked up than I initially thought.
“What’s your name?” She climbed onto the bench I was sitting on and took a hold of my hand, lifting it to her face. “I am Ophelia, and I am this old.” She lifted her left hand and showed five fingers. “My mom says I’m a big girl now and I can walk around alone.”
“Really?” Her sing-song voice almost made me smile. “And do you like being alone?”
She shrugged, inspecting my hand. “I guess.” Her tiny fingers traced the patterns over my palm and I let her.
It’d been so long since I last felt an innocent human touch on my skin. I hated when they touched me, when they groped me, but her touch... it was like a balm on burned skin.
“So, why are you here, Ophelia?” She had an interesting name, but most of all, she looked like a little angel.
“I already told you, silly.” She slapped me on my arm. “Papa brought me here. He said Kieran will be here.”
“And who is Kieran?” I didn’t know the names of any of the fuckers that were using us, but I knew that if she was sent here for the same reasons I was, I would find a way to set her free.
“He’s my friend. Well…” she started smiling again. “My friend’s brother, but he is my friend as well.”
“I see,” I mumbled. “And who is—”
“Ophelia!”
I swiveled my head to the right side, seeing a boy not much older than her with a scowl on his face. Midnight black hair and eyes of the same color, he definitely didn’t belong here. Just like this little girl, Ophelia, didn’t belong here.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. His eyes kept going from me to her, and his stiff posture told me that he didn’t like what he was seeing.
“I was here, with my new friend.” She sounded angry, gripping my hand now.
“You shouldn’t be roaming around all alone.”
“But I wasn’t alone.” She plastered herself to me. “I was with my new friend.”
He was agitated, but I didn’t say a thing. I stood up and his eyes widened, his defensive stance increasing.
“We need to go now, birdy. Your father will be looking for us.”
“But I don’t wanna go.” She stood up as well, hiding behind me. I didn’t know what it was, but the sudden urge to protect her kept rising in me. Was this boy somebody she didn’t like?
I placed a hand on her head, the soft, silky hair tickling my palm.
“I wanna stay here. Why can’t I stay here?”
