Page 4 of Day Break

“I don’t smoke,” I said, looking at the pale green cement wall across from the bunk.

There was a small sink and a toilet in the room. Despite the grittiness of the entire place, the space was clean.

“Hm…” Lucy made a noise above me. “How about some nail polish?”

I looked down at my hands. At my nails. They were cut short. I had never had color on them. It hadn’t been allowed.

More expectations forced onto me.

“No, thank you,” I answered.

Lucy’s upside-down head appeared directly in front of mine.

“Well, what do you want, not Meyers?” she asked, her eyes running over my face again.

I thought about it. In my heart, I knew there was nothing she or anyone else had that would lift the heavy weight pulling me down.

“Do you have any books?” I asked on a whim. Then I held up the Bible that I’d been given. “Other than this one?”

Lucy smiled. “A brainiac?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or maybe you’re into smut? I don’t got none of that Fifty Shades shit,” Lucy said, disappearing from my view. “But I do got this.” She reappeared holding a small, tattered book.

I looked at the title and for the first time in days, a smile caused the corners of my lips to curve upward.

Somehow, in one of my darkest hours, Byron had found me.

Reaching up, I took the frayed copy of Don Juan and then handed my new bar of soap to Lucy.

“Yep, called it, you’re a brainiac.” Lucy chuckled. “I couldn’t get through two pages of that one.”

I scooted back until my back was against the cold cement wall, hugging the book to my chest like a treasure. Then I tucked my knees up to my chest and just looked down at the cover. I could barely make out the image on the front, but I knew it so well, I closed my eyes and pulled it into my mind from memory.

No, I didn’t need any more tears.

I had my closest friend, the best lover that I’d ever had.

A book.

One that I loved and had read from cover to cover half a dozen times. There were only a handful of books I could say that about.

“Hey, not Meyers. You good under there?” Lucy asked.

“Chloe,” I said softly. I could no longer stomach my real name. I didn’t want one more person to call me Sarah Meyers. That woman was dead.

Suddenly, Lucy’s face appeared again. Her upside-down smile looked strange. Her eyes went over me as if she were trying to figure me out.

“I think we’re going to get along just fine, Chloe,” she said, before disappearing again.

I didn’t sleep that first night. Most of the night, I sat in my bunk, hugging my book to my chest. It was too dark to read. Then they had called lights out and seconds later the entire place went pitch black.

It was so dark that I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. It took minutes for my eyes to adjust.

I could hear Lucy snoring softly in the bunk above me.

I felt more tears try to come. Instead, I opened my book as if I could see it clearly. In my mind, I tried to run over the words from memory, but my memory wasn’t as great as I’d imagined it would be. Instead of each line appearing in my head, only some of the great ones flashed quickly in my mind.

“Nothing so difficult as a beginning

In poesy, unless perhaps the end;