I was laying on the floor, feeling the cold concrete burn my skin as I waited on nothing.

"Elisabeth Wilson." I heard an unfamiliar voice call out my name from outside the cell. I lifted my face up to look at her. She was one of the officers, but I hadn't seen her in this corner of prison before. "Listen up, you have five minutes to go take a shower and then the guard will escort you to get your belongings. You go home today."

I felt a shiver run through my body. A cold wave passing in my bones. I debated with my mind whether I was hallucinating again or I was really getting news that I'm being get free in a matter of minutes.

I use my hands to lift my weight from the ground. The officer had already left and so I stood there, replaying her sentences in my head.

"What are you waiting for ? Go shower and I'll be here to escort you out. Who would've thought I'd be here to see the day you leave this filthy cell." The guard on my door was talking while opening up the grill to let me pass.

Hearing her words allowed me to register and understand fully that I'm truly getting out of this place. I was already tired. My energy had burned out way long ago before this day and I couldn't even be thrilled and happy. I'm void of any emotion of joy. I'm used to suffering that the life inside me is gone. I have no light.

I slowly step out of the cell and make way to the empty bathrooms. The rest of the inmates are out having lunch and so I bath in silence with no interruptions.

I found my belongings on my bed when I returned from taking a bath. On the bed laid some new clothes but I didn't bother to wonder where they came from. Because I don't remember them being part of my belongings. When I arrived here two years ago, I had my bloody clothes and boots. The dress, jacket and shoes that are now present on my bed, I have no idea where they are coming from. But I put them on quickly and proceeded.

Inside my pillow I hid a pair of scissors from many months ago. It was there just incase I couldn't take the pain anymore. But I never found it inside me to use it against myself. I had stolen it from Martha and never returned it. I was still hoping I'd find the courage to slit my wrist some day.

My hair had tangled up over the months, it was damaged beyond repair because I never bothered to comp it. So I took the scissors and cut them all down. I used a razor that I also hid in my pillow to create a buzz cut. Together with my belongings came a small mirror that I used to look at myself.

I couldn't recognize myself. I felt dirty and I looked pale, too pale. Like a corpse. I had some scars, but I already knew about them. I didn't really care about the scars, I didn't care about alot of things. This was all pointless because I didn't care for living. I didn't love my life , I didn't even have a life.

It was just pointless.

But I still stared at myself in the mirror despite not caring. Because deep down I was hurt to see myself that way. My eyes were still the same. But because I lost so much weight my face looked slimmer. My cheekbones were sharper and my neck longer. I looked like a ghost.

My time was up and the guard escorted me out of prison. I asked the officer to allow me to leave a note for Martha and Lily , thanking them for everything. There wasn't time to physically say goodbye.

When I finally stepped out of that prison, I stared ahead at the vast acres and acres of fields. There was nothing but land for what looked like kilometers away. It was extremely hot and the sun burned my pale skin to no measure.

And I asked myself, "What now? Where do I go from here?"

I thought of my son and his father. And I wondered whether I could still consider them family. To them I died a year ago. And Enos , we separated from each other when we weren't in good terms. He was furious with me, I can still recall the argument we had that day. I used to replay it in my head like a broken record. I want to see my son again. I want to hold him and tell him I'm sorry. And tell him I love him. And tell him I miss him and that it's all gonna be okay

But I also wonder about James. Does this mean he survived? Or may be his father showed me mercy. A part of me ached to think that James Is dead. It still breaks my soul everytime I think about it.

I have nothing.

There wasn't a passport in my belongings. I have no money and I have no way of getting to the city.

While I stood out there contemplating on what I should do and where I'd start my journey, three black SUVs arrived and parked a few feet from where I stood.

I directed my line of vision to where they stopped and I observed as two guards dropped down and quickly opened the door for the owner. It wasn't normal for those kinds of cars to be in a place like this. The most I've seen are military vans and prisoner buses.

It took me a second to register that perhaps today ..... Out of all days..... I was coming face to face with the dead as I look at the man who exists the vehicle.

I double back, nearly falling to my knees, the beating of my heart almost halting while my soul sinks to the ground. Can it be??? I froze or may be it was my body paralyzing but I couldn't breathe.

He walked towards me.

Very Cautiously.

Almost afraid that I'd run away from him if he chose to rush his movements but I stay there.

May be it was the work of my imagination or the product of my wildest dreams but I simply couldn't believe nor compel myself to believe that he was there right Infront of me. Perhaps I was so broken that my own desperate mind decided to grace me with an image as wonderful as this.

So even when he got closer and closer to me, I convinced myself that his scent was simply the aftermath of my hallucinations. Because I've been seeing him all around me , haunting me every single day since I last saw his face that I wouldn't even sleep at night.

And when I felt his touch, his hand caressing my cheek delicately and carefully like a worshipper in prayer, that fire and overwhelming feeling of his presence over me, that sharp shiver that went down my spine like a stoke of electricity, the weakening of my legs and the failer to keep standing as my heart melted like it never before...... I still concluded that they were just a product of my imagination.

I was trembling against my power, and when he held me within his arms so that I wouldn't fall....I was still falling deep within. Then his eyes connected with mine and I was awaken. I was seeing those orbs again for the very first time in two years, and that's when I knew he wasn't a memory, or a thought, or an image from my dreams.....he was real... And he was there...and he was looking down on me like he has been waiting his entire life for this.

And I couldn't speak.

My mouth dried.

All I could do was stare.

That after all this time, I was seeing James once again.

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