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A French Connection: Chapter Three "Hey, I think they're waking up."
It's a stone cell. Like something out of Pirates of the Caribbean, except it has two plain white mattresses, one on either opposite wall. The third wall between them was bare except for two, small, barred windows. They had no glass in them, and the chilly night air came in and out as it pleased. At least the rain had stopped. Where the last wall would have been was a black metal mesh keeping the four occupants trapped inside. Two were male, two female. All four were between fourteen and sixteen. The girls sat on the left bunk, and the boys on the right. They had arrived a few hours ago, out cold, but now they were waking, and the girls had noticed. Conversation was just beginning.
"Are you okay?" one girl asked in a barely detectable french accent. One of the boys moaned in response.
"Jolly as a roger," he mumbled, not very reassuringly. He rubbed his head a
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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