A Prologue to a Story

     Since I've sort of digressed from the organization intended to have in my blog, I decided to throw a prologue to a story I am considering writing into the whole disorganized mix. I hope you enjoy it!

     "HOW COULD YOU?" shrieked the girl dangling beside me. "HOW COULD YOU?" She thrashed from side to side, trying to loosen herself from the shackles that held her aloft. She would soon give up, much like the boy to my left had, with a slump of the shoulders and an empty, resigned stare.
     I use my own resigned energy to force myself to concentrate on small things instead of listening to the shrieking, like the smell of rotting plants the cold stone dungeon has, or the taste of blood which still lingers in my mouth. It's not that the shrieking itself is driving me insane, but the fact I know that I caused it.
     It IS my fault that we're all here, hanging from iron shackles that lift us three feet off of the ground. It was because of my that these people who were my friends are suffering. I did do the right thing, but is it really the right thing if it causes so much pain. I look down, feeling an urge to cry, but I haven't cried for hours. It's surprising how short of a time it takes you to become inhuman in a prison.
     I find myself wanting to console the girl, but what can I say? "Sorry for betraying and imprisoning you for all eternity, will you forgive me?" No, I'll just have to suffer here in the dark until they finally decide to kill me off.
    I suppose that I had best start at the beginning, when I first met the pair of people who now hang beside me. I'll prove to you that I did the right thing. Maybe I can even convince myself...