Fear (A Scarecrow Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-One

My eyes wandered around the place, taking in every detail while I ignored the dozen pairs of eyes boring holes into me.  No one made a move to stop me from stumbling in, so I assumed either Jonathan had given them a heads up, or they were too shocked to see me loose.  I knew that I probably looked like a zombie, my skin pale, covered with dirt.  I was also sweaty despite being cold, probably making me smell worse.  Either way, I was glad they had decided to only stare.  The last thing I wanted was a stranger's assistance when they probably had some ulterior motive.

This room was larger than the one I had been kept in and had a higher ceiling.  Pipes lined the walls, criss-crossed like spider webs, leading to tanks and what looked like water coolers.  In some places, steam leaked from the pipe.  There were also shelves that held various things such as tools and spare piping.  I began to wonder if we were in some kind of maintenance room belonging to one of the industrial buildings.

A door opened and I turned my head towards the sound, seeing Garret enter the room.  He waved me over, glaring at me as he crossed his arms.  I assumed it was a show and frowned, playing along, hesitating before I carefully walked over.

He walked through the door before I had reached him and I hesitated before walking through the door, still feeling the eyes of the other henchmen on me.  Taking a shaky breath, I walked through the door, out of their sight.  Garret smiled, closing the door behind me.

"Take a seat, I'll get you some water," he said.

I looked around, finding that we were in a smaller room.  On one side of the room, there was a fridge, a sink, an oven, and some cabinets- the basics of a kitchen.  On the other, there was a small table with a few chairs.  I walked over, gladly collapsing into a chair, resting my head and closing my eyes.  Something squeaked and I could hear the sound of rushing water for a brief moment.  A few seconds later, I heard Garret walk over and I opened my eyes, watching him set the glass on the table before taking a seat.

"You did it," he said while watching me drain the water in three big gulps, "Now what?"

I didn't want him to know the truth behind why I asked to work for Jonathan, so I told him a half-truth, setting down the cup, "I just couldn't take rotting away in that room...trapped with my thoughts..." I laughed, shaking my head, trying to figure out what to say.  My eyes didn't move away from a stain on the table as I continued, growing serious again,  "I've been afraid of failing for a long time, and being stuck in that room made me feel completely worthless."

"Well..." he took the glass and I looked at him, seeing the same weariness in his eyes that I felt, "I'm not sure that much is going to change for you here either."

He stood and walked back to the sink to refill my cup.  I stayed silent, wishing things would turn around for him, that his daughter would get better, and he could find a job he enjoyed in a nicer city.  He put the glass down again, this time not sitting down, walking back to the fridge and pulling out food.  We were both silent for a long time.  He put together a sandwich for me, leaving the room soon after.

I took my time eating it, not actually hungry, but not wanting to turn down food, needing to regain my strength.  It disappointed me that I wasn't able to work out everyday like I normally would.  The dizziness I kept experiencing was caused by blood loss, but I could help feeling weak, like I had lost some of my strength while sitting around.

When I finally finished my sandwich, I stood from the chair, grabbing hold of the edge of the table, feeling dizzy for a brief moment.  I let go of the table when I felt a little better, picking up the plate and the glass, taking them to the sink where I put down the plate and filled up the cup, drinking a little more water before leaving the room.