HOME | DD

Description
Robyn sat uncomfortably in her cell, scrunched up into a small ball with a shiver.
Dripping water rang out through the small cell, the only light shining through a tiny hole in the ceiling. A sudden bang made her jump, even though she should probably be used to them by now.
Living in this industrial prison made your fear disappear completely. Being afraid of the dark? No. That's not fear. Fear is when you're afraid to close your eyes because they could snatch you right up from the hole you live in. The fear that you could be tortured until you're barely alive, then thrown out to taste freedom and the open air for the very last time until the wolves tear you apart limb from limb.
But you're so broken and beaten, you can't even move, or blink. You can just wait, and pray for death.
Yeah, that's fear.
But that's just it. It's a way of life.
Robyn sighed quietly, moving her tingling foot to the left slightly. She would give anything to stand, move, to be able to breath in this tiny cell. She didn't even know if there were other people in this place, or if it was just her. She knew that there were guards though, the ones who drug her off into this place four years ago.
Robyn swallowed, hitting her head lightly against the bars behind her. She should've listened and gotten away. She should've ran from the sirens, but she didn't. She thought nothing of it and just ignored it. But then the next morning, she awoke in a strange, dark room. Robyn had went unconscious, or to sleep, or something again. Then woke in this cell. She had been in this place for four years. The guards brought food every three days, and even let you get out and stretch your legs for five minutes every week.
Robyn sighed again, a bit louder. Today was the day. Or night, she didn't know if that light was artificial or not. The day she would call for somebody, scream, do something for some sort of sound in the silent prison. She closed her eyes for a split second, then nodded to herself. She drew up the strength and the guts, then yelled out loudly. "Hello? Is anyone alive out there?".
Robyn waited for a moment, then shivered. Nothing.
"Yeah. I suppose you're alive too?"
Robyn gasped, looking into the darkness. She said nothing, then heard a loud smirk. "Oi, what's your name, ma'am?" A clearly male voice said, with some sort of accent.
He sounded young, but gruff, like the voice hadn't been used in awhile. Robyn let out a shaky breath, then stuttered quietly, "R-Robyn...". The voice laughed, "Love, speak up. I can't hear ya.".
"I said, my name is Robyn." Robyn said a bit louder and stronger, her eyes darting around. "Well, Robyn. If ya lookin' for me, I'm behind you. Y-you're the one with the weird, colored hair, eh?" he asked. Robyn thought for a moment, then tried looking behind her. It was a stretch, but she managed to twist her head around slightly. Just enough to see a man leaned up against his own bars barely through the dark, his arms were stretched behind his head.
"I've never thought of my hair as weird..." she said quietly, and the man laughed. "I don't blame you, love.". The man chuckled. Her hair was kind of weird, it was curled, black, and had these sea green, blue highlights. Not really weird.
"So, what's your name?" Robyn asked, straining to look at the man. "Call me J, love." he chuckled again. Robyn sighed, wondering on how happy and smiley he could be in such a situation. "Does J not have a real name?" she asked, trying to place his accent.
J shrugged, "Possibly.". He grinned, a shimmer lighting for a second on his chest and almost entire face. She flared her nostrils slightly, thinking about how many piercings you could possibly fit onto one person's face.
"H-how long have you been here?" she asked, hesitant. "Eh, 'bout three years." J rolled his shoulders and leaned his head back against the bars. "Those sirens... they brought me here, I suppose. An average day in my home in Australia." That's it. The accent was Australian. J continued in a low voice, "I went to sleep and... this is it. I've been watching you, love. Awaiting the day you speak." he chuckled, but Robyn frowned.
"Creepy.." she whispered, and heard J laugh. "You're from the States, eh Robyn?". Robyn nodded, then decided to speak. "Y-yes, I am. The sirens brought you here, too?" she asked.
"Oi, you ask a lot of questions. But I suppose it's a good thing to chinwag sometimes." He chuckled again. "Chinwag?" Robyn asked, raising an eyebrow. "Oi, Americans. Like a uh, chat. Or talk. I suppose that's what it's meant to be in the States." J smiled, and Robyn nodded slightly.
J laughed, "You're quite a dag, Robyn." he sighed quietly.
Robyn rolled her eyes and sighed.
"J?"
"yes?"
"I don't know what a dag is."

Description
Robyn sat uncomfortably in her cell, scrunched up into a small ball with a shiver.
Dripping water rang out through the small cell, the only light shining through a tiny hole in the ceiling. A sudden bang made her jump, even though she should probably be used to them by now.
Living in this industrial prison made your fear disappear completely. Being afraid of the dark? No. That's not fear. Fear is when you're afraid to close your eyes because they could snatch you right up from the hole you live in. The fear that you could be tortured until you're barely alive, then thrown out to taste freedom and the open air for the very last time until the wolves tear you apart limb from limb.
But you're so broken and beaten, you can't even move, or blink. You can just wait, and pray for death.
Yeah, that's fear.
But that's just it. It's a way of life.
Robyn sighed quietly, moving her tingling foot to the left slightly. She would give anything to stand, move, to be able to breath in this tiny cell. She didn't even know if there were other people in this place, or if it was just her. She knew that there were guards though, the ones who drug her off into this place four years ago.
Robyn swallowed, hitting her head lightly against the bars behind her. She should've listened and gotten away. She should've ran from the sirens, but she didn't. She thought nothing of it and just ignored it. But then the next morning, she awoke in a strange, dark room. Robyn had went unconscious, or to sleep, or something again. Then woke in this cell. She had been in this place for four years. The guards brought food every three days, and even let you get out and stretch your legs for five minutes every week.
Robyn sighed again, a bit louder. Today was the day. Or night, she didn't know if that light was artificial or not. The day she would call for somebody, scream, do something for some sort of sound in the silent prison. She closed her eyes for a split second, then nodded to herself. She drew up the strength and the guts, then yelled out loudly. "Hello? Is anyone alive out there?".
Robyn waited for a moment, then shivered. Nothing.
"Yeah. I suppose you're alive too?"
Robyn gasped, looking into the darkness. She said nothing, then heard a loud smirk. "Oi, what's your name, ma'am?" A clearly male voice said, with some sort of accent.
He sounded young, but gruff, like the voice hadn't been used in awhile. Robyn let out a shaky breath, then stuttered quietly, "R-Robyn...". The voice laughed, "Love, speak up. I can't hear ya.".
"I said, my name is Robyn." Robyn said a bit louder and stronger, her eyes darting around. "Well, Robyn. If ya lookin' for me, I'm behind you. Y-you're the one with the weird, colored hair, eh?" he asked. Robyn thought for a moment, then tried looking behind her. It was a stretch, but she managed to twist her head around slightly. Just enough to see a man leaned up against his own bars barely through the dark, his arms were stretched behind his head.
"I've never thought of my hair as weird..." she said quietly, and the man laughed. "I don't blame you, love.". The man chuckled. Her hair was kind of weird, it was curled, black, and had these sea green, blue highlights. Not really weird.
"So, what's your name?" Robyn asked, straining to look at the man. "Call me J, love." he chuckled again. Robyn sighed, wondering on how happy and smiley he could be in such a situation. "Does J not have a real name?" she asked, trying to place his accent.
J shrugged, "Possibly.". He grinned, a shimmer lighting for a second on his chest and almost entire face. She flared her nostrils slightly, thinking about how many piercings you could possibly fit onto one person's face.
"H-how long have you been here?" she asked, hesitant. "Eh, 'bout three years." J rolled his shoulders and leaned his head back against the bars. "Those sirens... they brought me here, I suppose. An average day in my home in Australia." That's it. The accent was Australian. J continued in a low voice, "I went to sleep and... this is it. I've been watching you, love. Awaiting the day you speak." he chuckled, but Robyn frowned.
"Creepy.." she whispered, and heard J laugh. "You're from the States, eh Robyn?". Robyn nodded, then decided to speak. "Y-yes, I am. The sirens brought you here, too?" she asked.
"Oi, you ask a lot of questions. But I suppose it's a good thing to chinwag sometimes." He chuckled again. "Chinwag?" Robyn asked, raising an eyebrow. "Oi, Americans. Like a uh, chat. Or talk. I suppose that's what it's meant to be in the States." J smiled, and Robyn nodded slightly.
J laughed, "You're quite a dag, Robyn." he sighed quietly.
Robyn rolled her eyes and sighed.
"J?"
"yes?"
"I don't know what a dag is."