Tell Me My Name by Mary Fan Page A

it’s no use – they stream down my cheeks anyway. I
quickly wipe them, then turn my face toward the back wall. I’ve
lost any chance of maintaining the pretense that I’m all right, and
I’m ashamed that someone has to see me like this.
    I hear footsteps ringing against the
stone floor outside my cell and know that it must be Darien
leaving. I’m glad he’s going; I wouldn’t know what to do if he’d
stayed. Still, the air suddenly seems hollow and empty in the
absence of the one person I can remember ever being kind to
me.
    I inhale, drawing a gust of cold air
into my lungs, but it does nothing to steady my head or push back
the desolation that’s conquered my mind. I know I should be
stronger, should continue searching for a way to escape and focus
on my survival, yet I can’t bring myself to keep fighting when I
don’t even know what I’m fighting for.
    Opening my eyes, I glance back toward
the window, almost hoping he’s still there. Of course, he isn’t.
The small sack of food sits on the ledge where he left it, but
despite the hollow hunger in my stomach, I have no wish to retrieve
it.
    I have no wish for anything
anymore.
    The despairing thoughts hammer against
my mind, and I gaze dully into nothingness.
    No chance, no purpose, no
hope.
    Time rolls by, but I remain still, as
frozen and blank as the walls of ice trapping me. Maybe if I sit
here like this long enough, I’ll turn to ice as well, and never
have to feel pain or sorrow or anguish again.
    Suddenly the sound of quick footsteps
patters outside the cell, trying to tug my consciousness out of its
cloud of depression. But though that may have worked in the past,
I’m too numb now to care who approaches. If it’s the Sorci master
coming to curse me again, let him. I can’t stop him anyway. And if
it’s Darien …
    He comes into view before I
can finish the thought, striding toward my cell. What’s he doing back here? I wonder. My curiosity encourages my mind to sharpen just
enough to keep my gaze on him instead of dropping to the floor
again.
    He glances back toward the stairs with
a worried, almost fearful look, then picks up his pace. Stopping
before the window, he holds up his hand, which clutches something
wrapped in a brown cloth made of the same material as the sacks he
uses to bring me food. He meets my gaze with a stare so intense, it
seems to pierce right through me.
    “ This belongs to you,” he
says, placing the package on the window ledge.
    What? Surprise jolts me out of my melancholy trance, and I
instinctively stand, my eyes flying to the brown lump. What is that? How can it belong to me?
    Before I can say anything, the Sorci
master’s voice thunders from the distance.
    “ Darien!”
    The sound sends a dart of terror
through me, and I jump up. At the same time, Darien whirls toward
the staircase, then turns back to me, giving the package a slight
push forward. “Keep it hidden, or they’ll kill us both.” He races
away without another word.
    Shocked and intrigued, I rush to the
window and snatch the wad of brown cloth. I back into the corner by
the window, where I’m least likely to be seen from outside, and
stare at the thing in my hand.
    This belongs to me. It must be a relic from my past, some possession
I had with me when I was captured. A tremendous wave of joy and awe
overwhelms me, and my knees buckle. This is it – the link to my
past that could tell me who I am, where I come from, and maybe even
why I’m here.
    It could hold the answers my life
depends on.
    With this object in my
hands, I can hope again. I can believe once more that there’s
something worth staying strong for, worth fighting for. My eyes
well, but with tears of happiness and relief this time, and one
thought sparkles like starlight in my head: There is good in this world . And
it’s not out of my reach – the proof is right here.
    Does Darien even know what this means
to me? Did he sense that I was so lost, I was ready to let