A willful young woman arrested and awaiting her sentence

You cant believe it. You wont. Soon enough someone will realize they've made a mistake, someone will open that cell door and you will be free to return to your life. A moment of awareness and reflection waves over you and you realize, your life. It was nothing. All you've ever done was fight tooth and nail to survive, that next meal always just a few coppers or a quick mark away. You had no life and still here where you sit with nothing. Is this it? was this all there ever was? Have you lost anything at all?

Water droplets fall from the ceiling, creating a pool of water in the far corner. Looking up you watch the water slowly pool up against the cracked moss covered stone until it can no longer bear its own weight, every few seconds it lets go and the drop hits the water below with a plop. In the rippling water beneath it you catch a glimpse of yourself. Your meager rags left shredded after your arrest, proof that you had fought mightily to escape the guards that pursued you.

Your ragged blouse had been torn from collar to bellybutton and it now had trouble staying around your shoulders, much to your captors delight and your dismay. More than once they had taken it upon themselves to "help" you cover up. Really all they did was mock, tease, and grope. Your vengeful stare seemed only to spur them on, the sick pleasure smeared across their faces like grass upon the land as they pinned you up against the carriage by your collared throat and took turns violating you with their hands. The bruise remained on your neck where one had taken it upon himself to bite you. Your bottom lip was sore and blood had crusted around the small gash, you can still feel the strike that split it open but it was worth the look of anguish on the biters face when you crushed his toe under your heel.

You wonder if you had always looked this worn out. You admittedly don't look at yourself that often but the wear was undeniable, you are exhausted.

Under your rags lie a thinner framed body covered in dirt and scars. Some earned in youthful fights over scraps of food and some deterring those that meant to do much worse. Your messy hair falling on your shoulders and framing your face, you're a mess but you never were ugly by any means. If you were cleaned up it would be hard not to catch eyes.

Amidst your self examination you hear two sets of footsteps approach the door and a key slot into the lock. Slumping down in the bed you just sit and await your fate. The fear had been driven out of your body by the exhaustion and the hunger. Two mail clad guards walk in, spears pointing up at the ceiling. Whatever happens next is beyond your control. Or is it?

"Oi stand up and face the wall", belted the fatter one, motioning you to stand with a simple tilt of his head.