You thought that just because I finished the novel that we were done here? Heck no! We still have two days of November left, and I intend to use them. This journal isn’t done yet, folks!
Today, I want to give you the final excerpt to read from Written in Silence. If you would like to go back and read the other three, you can do so by clicking these links:
Once again, please keep in mind that this is a vomit draft, and the only editing I did to it was enough to make it presentable to my readers. Enjoy:
She felt him lift his hand and put it around her. His breathing was heavy and ragged, but she was just glad he was alive. She looked into his swollen hazel eyes, the eyes that she fell in love with from the first time she saw them, those deep, soul-filled eyes. He gave her a weak smile, and used his other hand to slowly give her a thumbs up. He was trying to tell her that he was going to be okay.
She didn’t think he was being brave, she though he was being serious. She guessed that in his mind, because he didn’t tell Genesis anything about the OAM, even under torture, it was worth it. He had survived the first round with the enemy, and that made him feel victorious, no matter how much pain he was in.
“Michael, I’m sorry.”
His eyes told her everything he wanted to say, “It’s not your fault.”
She still felt like she could have saved him from the pain.
Michael must have sensed this, because he took her hand and opened it so her palm was facing up. He used his finger and lightly traced letters on her hand, she had to remember each one to get his message.
“Don’t blame yourself.”
Dianna cried harder and gave him a soft hug. He closed his eyes and didn’t reopen them for a while. She sat with her back to the cot, looked at the wall opposite her. She didn’t try to stop the tears now.
After what felt like a few hours passed, Michael stirred. She jumped up and turned. He was trying to get up, she put her hands on his shoulders, trying not to hurt him, to make him stay down. “Don’t get up, Michael. Rest for a while,” she said.
He waved her off and stood up. He looked a lot stronger now, but his face still winced in pain. He took his shirt and put it back on. When he looked at her again, through slightly less swollen eyes, she saw anger and determination back on his face. Not that there was anything he could do about the situation.
He looked around the cell and rushed to the cot. He moved it a little and looked underneath.
“Um, Michael…what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer of course, but this time he didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken to him. His eyes were so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t respond, in any way that he could.
He seemed to have found what he was looking for, because he bent down and picked something up off the floor. It looked like a small sized rock, the stone matched the kind that lined the walls outside of the cell, much harder than the kind inside the cell, which were just cinder blocks. It must have been left over from the construction of the prison, but it somehow was missed when they cleared the place out properly.
Michael held it up in triumph then walked to the wall. He had the look of unstoppable determination on his face.
Dianna just watched him, she had no idea what he was up to, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to be able to stop him.
He took the stone and started to scratch at the wall. It barely left a mark, so he continued to scratch at it, and soon he was in a rhythm. She saw that he was writing something on the cell wall, but the scratching was taking so long, that she couldn’t see what it was.
She tried talking to him again, but he wasn’t going to answer her. He just continued to scratch away. Eventually, she was growing tired of watching him, so she hopped onto the cot and drifted off to sleep to the sound of his writing.
When she woke up, it was quiet. She opened her eyes to see Michael was once again sleeping on the floor. All of his wounds were dried up and starting to scab over, his nose still looked broken, but at least all the swelling had gone down. His eyes were black and blue, as well as a few other spots on his face.
She stood up to use the toilet before he woke up, that’s when she remember his project last night. She spun around to the wall that faced the cell door, and saw scratched into it were big, hard to miss letters. The wall now carried Michael’s statement, it was like a loud voice crying out. When she read it, tears welled up in her eyes. It said, in all capital, bold letters,
“YOU CAN’T SILENCE ME!”
No matter how long it took him to scratch it, no matter how painful it felt to do it, on that wall, he wrote the one thing he needed to write. He had a voice, and no matter what they did to him, they would never shut him up.
-Excerpt from Written in Silence; Chapter 31 “The Writing on the Wall”, by Andrew Ronzino
There it is! I hope you liked it.
Until my last 2011 NaNoWriMo entry tomorrow,
Andrew Ronzino, the Breaker of Souls