Page 4 of Locked
But it wasn't the same.
I needed the sun. Like I needed fresh air.
And Ineededan internet connection.
I just knew my blog was going crazy with me gone for two weeks. What would my readers think? Me disappearing with no word?
I'd cycled through this same vortex of spiralling thoughts the entire time I'd been locked inside, and I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all, myself.
There were three readers that I really cared about. Kinden. Rifyr. Sorrel. I called them 'my guys' when I was running short on time or breath. They were the three I talked to the most. The three I had grown closest to.
The three I truly was worried about losing.
The three who were probably the most worried about me.
And me, I worried too. Worried I'd lose them. That I'd come back online tomorrow to find out they'd gotten tired of waiting and had moved on.
I knew, in the back of my mind, how unimportant that worry was in the grand scheme of things, and how unconducive to my mental well-being it was. So, I tried to think about something else. Anything else.
I made a face. My daily post average was going to be messed up for sure.
Okay, so blog stats weren't exactly the most important thing to be thinking about at a time like this, but the mind tended to focus on the mundane to avoid thinking about the big picture.
And my big picture was so limited anyway… it was probably better to worry about the mundane things.
I reached for the shampoo bottle, my powers already so weak that I knew too much of a spark would drain them completely, leaving me almost unable to drag myself to bed. So I washed my hair as a non-magical person would.
With my hands.
It felt good, scratching my fingernails over my neglected scalp. Soon, I had a fluffy, sweet smelling lather going all through my blonde hair.
Tomorrow was going to be a better day, I could feel it. I wouldn't do anything to upset Mother while she was visiting and before she left, she'd allow me to go into my sunroom again.
It would be a lovely visit.
I leaned back to rinse my hair in the bath water, too tired to find, look for, or conjure a pitcher for rinsing.
With that final action, I stood up, reaching for my bathrobe and wrapping myself up in the fluffy softness. I drained the tub and extinguished the candles by hand. Dousing them one at a time before leaving the room and walking out into the hallway.
There were two other doors down this hallway. One was my bedroom and the other was a kind of rec room. The latter had a treadmill and hand weights. Ways for me to keep active. There wasn't much for me to do while locked in a tower and I had to keep fit and healthy.
I was definitely too exhausted for even a quick workout, so I opted for bed, an early bedtime wouldn't be remiss since I hadn't been sleeping well as of late.
Basil was already there, curled up at the head of my bed just south of one of my lush, pink pillows.
The room was very juvenile in nature. I knew every piece of furniture, every decoration by heart, even with the lights out and very little in the way of sight.
I could just make out Basil at the top of the pinks satin bedspread. The velvet duvet. The stuffed animals I just couldn't seem to part with no matter how often I attempted to turn them into something else.
I supposed I was very juvenile too.
I really wasn't anything special. You'd think I might be an amazing conjurer, or an adept potioner, given my natural talents. But I hadn't ever tried to hone them for anything other than my own personal use, so most of the things Icoulddo were just out of sheer laziness.
I sometimes changed my hair color. From blonde to purple. Or to green. Or pink, or something different. Just so I'd have something new to look at in the mirror.
But besides that, I wasn't very prone to advanced magic.
I braided my hair, starting at the crown and working down, down, down to the very bottom. My hair was many things, but the mostly it was long. It nearly reached my hips when I left it down and to its own devices. I never really thought much about changing it. I'd started growing it long when Mother set me up in this tower when I was five. I sacrificed a strand every time she came for a visit. It was for that reason that I never really wanted to cut it.
The only way to open the door to my apartment was to sacrifice a part of myself. So, I chose strands of hair. It was easier for the spell to work when my hair was longer.
Not to mention, the only person I had available as a stylist was Mother. And her own hair looked terrible, so I assumed I would be fine without having to cut or trim it all the time.
Sighing, I tied a hair band to the bottom of my damp braid, pulling back the covers and sliding into the bed.
I could feel Basil adjusting himself, shifting around until he was flush against my side. The same place he'd always been since he was a kitten.
"Goodnight, Basil…" I murmured.
"Goodnight, Rapunzel," he replied, purring as he tucked his head down once more.
