Snippet #2558337

Excited though she was, Jennifer was tired. It must've been days since she'd slept, given the way her eyes began to drift closed as she sat there, wrapped in sheets like a child. It was warm, and cozy, and she could hear people speaking and beginning their day. It was peaceful. She closed her eyes for just a minute, it seemed, let her own warmth catch up to her...and was jolted awake before she knew it by two quiet knocks at the door. For a moment, she panicked. Whenever the men would come to collect her in the mornings, she was supposed to be prepared; dressed, bathed, hair combed flat, bed made and room tidy. Right now, she was anything but. Her hair was fluffed up and messy, she was undressed and swathed in sheets clumsily, her clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed. She wasn't prepared in any way for company. But when the Blondie poked his head through the door, the fear dissipated slowly, replaced by a gentle buzzing and the beginnings of throbbing pain behind her right eye.

"Good morning Jenn." His voice was so soft, but rigid, and it made Jennifer's stomach sink. She'd displeased him somehow. It was barely morning, and he was already disappointed. She was supposed to make him happy so he wouldn't kill her, but she'd already upset him. She had failed, already."Would you like some breakfast? I'll start making it if so." Oh. Jennifer stared at the blonde man, lips parted in surprise, and silently nodded. Breakfast. With the men, breakfast had to be earned. If you didn't work hard enough, well enough, you didn't eat. It was simple. Made sense. Work means food, food means life. So she'd worked hard, been allowed to eat, and gone on through life. Easy. But not here. Here, food, safety, a bed to sleep in, was all offered freely. It made her head spin. So she nodded again, lifting her right hand and pressing it against her browbone, as though trying to work the information in, and the pain out. This place had a whole new set of rules to learn.

Keeping his gaze trapped in hers, Jennifer tried to force a smile, though it was empty and left her eyes looking pained. She had to speak to him. Had to actually tell him that she remembered who he was...or, at least, his name. And it would go over better with a smile. So smile she did, in her empty, painful way. Then, with a voice shaky with sleep and fear, mumbled a gentle, "Good morning, Blondie." After the words finally passed her lips, she stared at him expectantly. I said it! a part of her wanted to shout, I was able to say it! You know that that's you, don't you? You know that I'm trying! Please, you have to know that I am trying!