Sinner's Prayer

Night Crawlin'

Night folds a dark blanket over the sky as twilight dissipates with the setting sun. Jack listens with trained ears where he lays in his bed, over the covers and still dressed from earlier.

Paper thin walls and rickety wooden floors allowed him some sense of knowledge as to whether any life was active in the house. For the past hour all had been silent, save for the usual taps and groans from the wind hitting against the weathered farmhouse.

He'd been thrumming with anticipation ever since he'd gotten home, jittery and a little anxious. Though the promise of seeing Ennis with guaranteed privacy was well worth the nerves.

He sits up slowly, ears ringing in the silence and eyes moving through the darkness of his room. Moonlight pools onto his floor in a silver glow, offering some sort of luminance to guide his gaze.

Really all there was to do was grab his coat and leave, he'd already left a window unlatched downstairs by the front door and stashed away the reins in the barn so he could saddle up his horse as quickly as possible.

He moves with baited breath, feet touching the floor, secure in his socks as he stands. He plucks his boots from the end of his bed, snatches his hat and his jacket from where it hung over his chair to pull over his shoulders. He moves slowly, rolling his feet to shift his weight smoothly over the floorboards.

He'd had half a mind to grease up his door hinges earlier that day, pulling it open without a sound, poking his head into a dark hallway. He gives himself a moment to breathe, amping himself up for the trek downstairs.

Jack swallows, stepping out of his room, feet knowingly finding stronger floorboards as he navigates in the dark. He makes for the stairs, padding down them quietly, gripping the rail and skipping the fourth carefully because it squeaks. He's gentle to step off the last, eyes still adjusting to the veil of darkness that surrounds him.

It's not like he's unable to get around. Jack had known these walls for as long as he'd been alive. The furniture hadn't changed once in his seventeen years. Every chair, every turn, every squeaky floorboard was mapped out in his brain like the back of his hand.

It makes moving to the front door a piece of cake, knowing better than to use it to exit. Instead, he goes to the window he'd left unlocked, careful in the way he pushes the glass upward. Silence rings around him, only amplifying each and every little scrape the wooden frame made.

He can't even take a breath of relief upon the open window. He still has to slide out and he still has to close it.

Gritting his teeth, Jack ducks, sliding through the open space, waiting to find his footing on the ground before smoothly pulling himself the rest of the way through. He sets his boots down, moving to close the window just as slowly as he'd opened it, leaving a space no thicker than a pencil for reentry.

Now, he can breathe, sighing in contempt before tugging on his boots.

Jack straightens, turning to gaze around the front yard, a cool breeze hitting against his skin and crickets singing. His heart is racing due to the adrenaline. He hadn't snuck out of the house in a while though he used to do it quite often to sneak out to bonfires by the creek or to find Sam at the end of his driveway.

It was thrilling in a sense, and he smiles to himself.

Having no time to waste, Jack quickly shakes it off, taking quick steps to the back of the property. He reaches the stables in no time, ripping reins from where they hung on the wall and a saddle from its bench. He navigates it all in nothing but the glow of the moon that peaks through the wide barn windows, moving swiftly to one of the center stalls where an easy bay mare was housed.