Chapter Eight
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"I am closer to believing 
Than I ever was before
On the crest of this elation
Must I crash upon the shore
And with the driftwood of acquaintance
Light the fire to love once more
I am windblown...I am times."
Closer to Believing
-Emerson, Lake and Palmer
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She sat in the back of the wagon, muttering to herself. There were people 
around her babbling incoherent things, talking to the air, of staring 
mutely before them. "How did I let this happen? I'm not crazy, I know I'm 
not. You have to let me out of here!" She yelled, griping wooden bars with 
her hands. "I don't belong here, I'm not crazy!"

"That's what they all say, missy." A dirty man with a gap-toothed smile 
walking along side the cart said. 

"But I'm not. I have to get out of the Labyrinth, to get home. You have to 
believe me!"

"Sure sounds like crazy talk t' me." He spit on the ground. "Pretty thing 
like you, should learn t' keep yer mouth shut 'fore you get yourself hurt." 
He reached between the bars and pulled on her hair, laughing. "Oh, you'll 
be good for a laugh, you will."

"Reg, get away from there. What have I told you about harassing the 
patients?"

"I was jus' havin' a bit o' fun with 'er, Captain. Didn't harm 'er none."

"Just back away. If I catch you near those bars again, it'll be your job, 
understand?"

"Yessir. Won't 'appen again."

"See to it that it doesn't." At this point, the speaker came into view. He 
wore chainmail armor, and a helmet that obscured much of his face. "He 
didn't hurt you, did he?" His eyes surveyed the frightened woman in the 
cart.

"N-no. But you have to listen to me. I don't belong in here. You have to 
let me out."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. But if you were placed here wrongly, I'm sure 
the examiners will release you after your interview. They don't keep sane 
people locked up."

"Yes. Your right. Thank you." She gave him a tremulous smile. He 
disappeared from her line of sight again. She held to that faint ray of 
hope. Perhaps the 'examiners' would see reason; see the truth behind her 
words. It was a small  prospect to cling to, for she new full well how 
crazy her tale sounded to her own ears. But it was the truth, so she held 
fast to it. It was all she had now. 
	Hour after hour, the cart rolled on; occasionally picking up new 
tenants at small, secluded villages. Time stretched incomprehensibly, she 
had no way to judge how long she had been traveling. There was only the 
endless jarring over the pitted road, the seamless green walls of the 
forest on either side of her. Her head drooped like a flower on a broken 
stem, and she had not the strength, or the desire, to lift it. The one 
thought that fluttered over and over in her mind, like a butterfly trying 
frantically to escape, was that Jareth would save her. That somehow, he 
would find her, and take her away to the castle, to the place where 
nothing would ever hurt again. It was a vain thought, she knew, for had he 
wanted to find her, he surely would have done so by now. Her thoughts 
shifted groggily in her tired mind to her friends she left back home. She 
had been gone for weeks now, but how much time had passed on earth? Where 
they looking for her? Had they even realized she was gone? Stagnant fears 
festered in her heart. Alone. How she hated the word. How she hated the 
mindless panic that seized her every time she thought of it. It was the 
one thing she feared above all others, the prospect of being alone again. 
Forever.
	After an eternity, the cart, and it's weary passengers came to a 
jostling stop. The back doors were opened, and the occupants led out one 
by one. They were taken into a large, dark stone building, and put in 
rooms little more than jail cells. There was a crude cot in one corner, 
some moldering straw on the floor, and high above her, a small bared 
window through which a feeble amount of illumination shown. Here, in this 
dark hole, it washer only way to calculate the passage of time. They were 
fed at regular intervals, though she began to wish they were never fed at 
all. Near ten in the morning, by her calculations, the dirty, gap-toothed 
man the captain had called Reg, came into her cell.

"There's my pretty miss. 'ow're we today?" She shrank further into the 
corner of her cot. "Oh, come on, li'le lady, ol' Reg won't hurt you none." 
He approached her and took hold of her arm. "I brought you a bit to eat. 
Come on then, come keep me company while I eat me own lunch." He dragged 
her over to a rough-hew bench that stood against the wall near the door, 
and forced her to sit. "That's a good girl." He handed her the plate he 
had brought for her. "Eat up." She sat in silence, not daring to look up 
into his leering face. "Shame such a fine girl as you should be locked up 
in a horrible place like this." He reached out to touch her face with a 
grimy finger. She lept up form the bench, and kicked him in the shin as 
hard as she could manage. 

"Keep away from me, you monster!"

"Quite the li'le spitfire, aren't we now? You oughtn't o' done that."

"Get out! Get away from me!"

"That did it. Come here, missy." He advanced on her threateningly.

"Help! Someone!" She screamed, fleeing to the far end of the cell. She was 
cornered against the stone wall, with  Reg between her and the door.

"What's going on it there?" A voice in the hallway called.

"Nothin'. One o' the inmate's givin' me a bit o' trouble, that's all." Reg 
turned around to face the door.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, got it all taken' care of." He opened the door, exited and locked it 
behind him. He took one last look into the room through the portal in the 
door. "I'll be back for you." He leered. She shivered the rest of the day, 
but weather through the grace of God, or some other power, the man did not 
return. Late in the evening, she heard the jingle of keys in the corridor. 
She peered out the portal, and spied a hunched over woman cleaning out one 
of the rooms across from her own.

"Miss? Miss!" The old woman turned around. "Do you, by any chance, know 
when I will get to meet with the examiners? I've been here for several 
days, and no one's yet been to see me."

"They're workin' their way down this row, so someone should be by to get 
ya tomorrow."

"Thank goodness." She couldn't wait to get away, and back on her journey. 
She went back to her cot, and slept the first good sleep she'd had since 
arriving there. Early the next morning, she awoke to a taping on her door. 

"Wake up! It's time to meet with the examiners!" She got up, straightened 
her appearance as best she could, and walked to the door. It was opened, 
and she was led by the arms down the corridor.

End Chapter Eight