Rhonda Floam’s Diaries: Shawmancer Island (entry 11)

Kogu 60, SP~4,909

Rhonda Floam


It’s been days since I wrote.  It feels good to have a real pen in hand and actual paper, and not just scraps.

A lot has happened, so a lot to tell.

I’ll start with, well, I was rescued! I thought I was dead, or about to be. The last time I wrote there were three thugs about to kill me. Their boss, whoever that was (is), gave them their orders. When they finished getting their orders, they came back, gave me a hard kick to the head and next thing I knew, I was standing on a bridge. Actually, I couldn’t stand. I noticed that first, and then noticed that the reason I was upright was because two of the thugs were holding me up, and they weren’t very gentle about it. As I came to, I realized that the other thug was giving me a nice talking to. Well, nice for him. He certainly seemed to be enjoying it. He got particularly excited when he saw I was coming to and could actually understand his babble. That’s when he used a short blade to add a few cuts down my side to help make his point. He looked close to see my reaction. I knew he wanted to see me beg for my life before they got it over with. I didn’t give him any satisfaction on that account, and told them the shoes were one size too small, like his privates. That earned me one more long, slow cut.

That’s when he’d had enough of the fun. He grabbed my head and forced me to look down at my feet. “We made you some nice stone shoes, pretty-face.” I could see that each of my feet were stuffed into canvas bags full of rocks and tied off nice and tight so I couldn’t wiggle out. I could also see the river below. It looked big, and deep.

“Yes, pretty face, now it’s time for a swim!” I remember those words exactly because I thought they were the last ones I’d ever hear. Then I felt hands grab me and I was up and over the railing. As I fell, I could hear their laughter, and then, just before I hit the water, I was surprised to hear a clang of steel and some unpleasant cries of surprise. I didn’t really think much about it because I was busy drowning.

Next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the river. I threw up water, and heard a couple voices saying something to me, and I could feel the bags being cut away from my feet.

Then several friendly hands set me on a soft patch of ground under a tree. Someone leaned down to look me in the eyes, and I saw a familiar face. He looked worried.

“Do you know who I am?” he said, and I said back, “No, Donnessling, not a clue.”

Then I passed out again.

I woke up in this place later that day, so they told me.

That was three days ago. There’s more to tell, but no more today.

I need to find out how Bobby is.

It’s good to be writing again!

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