Deep in the heart of the catacombs, in the very most corner of the dungeon the soft rattle of chains can be heard. Not a loud rattling like that of a fighter but a hopeless rattle, as though the prisoner has given up the fight. A faint light filters through the barred window high above the prisoner's head, falling just beyond the bars that keep this prisoner in.
Talk among the towns folks indicates this prisoner is a young woman and in the dungeon of her own free will. The ladies of the town believe that she simply could not keep up with her twin sister, at least in her head. I over heard the women at the sewing circle in the town's hall talking about her. They seemed confused. They could not understand the prisoner's reason for locking herself away. Seems she was just as beautiful as her sister, same long silky dark hair, same large almond shaped blue eyes, and the same beautiful creamy skin. The same in every way, but it appeared as if the prisoner could not see this and could stand it no longer, locking herself away in the dungeon to die.
The thespians at the local theatre were speaking of her also. The talent she had seemed impressive. They missed her greatly and could not understand what drove her to the dungeon. They needed her voice and her dancing skills. They thought they might ask her sister to replace her. After all they had had all the same instructors and voice teachers equally beautiful and talented. They hoped her sister would accept the part.
Her Father I learned, was a very rich man. In fact, the richest in the land. I asked a few of the towns people if this may have had something to do with why she felt so poorly of herself. Maybe, her father had spoiled her sister and had not been equally as generous with this young lady. However, I was assured that this was not the case. Seems this father lavished both his daughters equally. They were given everything their hearts desired and they in turn, were generous with what their father had given them. Often sharing with those in need. They were both kind and funny. The people of their small community seemed to love and adore these two girls.
I was deeply concerned. What could have happened to this one, and why? I decided I must search deeper. I headed down the old dirt path towards the home of these two remarkable young ladies.
About 400 yards into my journey I happened upon a group of young girls carrying a heavy load of flour, sugar and materials. They were speaking in hushed voices as if the russian thistle might over hear their conversation. I crept up as close as I dared without getting caught.
What I heard broke my heart. Apparently the two young sisters had went for a walk in the gardens just beyond the safety of their home and against their father's orders. While they were adventuring in the gardens that tragic day, they happened upon a group of travelers. The girls believed that these travelers were kind people and decided to sit and have a meal with them. During the meal the men were admiring the beauty of the young girls. So much so in fact, that the girls were uncomfortable and decided to leave. The travelers, however, had different ideas. They kept the girls against their will.
During the days with the travelers, the girls had been beaten and raped repeatedly. They were feed only bread and water, and that only once a day. The girls barely had enough energy to move when the opportunity for escape came. It came after a late night party. The travelers had passed out, forgetting about their guests, the girls had been left unattended. Gathering their strength they snuck out of the camp, and ran for their life. Near the end of the journey home, the girls came across a group of soldiers their father had sent to look for them. The girls collapsed at their feet and arrived safely home an hour later.
Their father so grateful for his daughters to be home, he quickly attended to their needs. Nurses and doctors were brought in to care for them until they were completely healed or so he thought.
Physically the girls had healed. The bruises gone, scratches healed. But the wounds that were not so apparent on the outside burned and bled on the inside, at least for the daughter in the dungeon. In fact these wounds no one else could see, seemed to be hemorrhaging, some even were becoming infected and were beginning to ooze puss.
As time went on she became withdrawn and aloof. Her normal talkative nature and friendly attitude seemed to have been damaged beyond repair since the trauma. Her sister, on the other hand, resumed her normal activity but now with a more aware mature attitude yet still fun loving and friendly. She could not understand what had happened to her sister. Why she couldn't just "get over it". Why she seemed to dwell on it all the time. She just did not understand. There was now a gap in their relationship that they could not reach across, each alone in her own world.
The father was so concerned about the daughter who was still so wounded he invited all kinds of healers in to help her. Anyone, in fact, that was willing to try, he allowed. It anguished him so to see his daughter in so much pain. Healer after healer, counselor after counselor, magician after magician and nothing, and no change just more and more seclusion for his daughter.
It was told that the day came when she just disappeared. No one could find her. In a search of the grounds she was found in the dungeon where she had chained herself to the wall. She resisted and even fought off people who tried to rescue her, to reach her and set her free. It seemed she believed that this is where she belonged. Chained up in some dark hole where no one could ever hurt her again. Away from people and things, getting what she had deserved. Punishment. Solitary confinement. Prisoner.
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