In The Name Of . . . (Sequel to Fault Line) [Completed]

Chapter Seventeen

I never thought in million years that I would have to jump out of a three story window that could end in my death. Luckily the building is surrounded by smaller sized buildings, so my escape will be easier than I anticipated. And I realize that falling kind of feels like flying, just not under my given circumstances.

I am falling in what seems like slow motion. I remember that in class one of my teachers talked about how in danger the eye works as a camera, it looks like time has slowed down. I must say that it is true, the fire escape stairs-on the building across from this one-that I'm aiming for slowly grows in my vision.

The impact of the cold metal stairs hurt like a thousand knives puncturing my arms. My grip tightens around the bars, pulling myself up. Climbing down the stairs, I take them two at a time. I reach the bottom quicker than I thought I would. I take off towards main street as son as my feet hit the alley. I figure that main street would be busy and crowded enough to hide until I can get away.

After rushing into the busy streets of Portland, I pull the hood of my gray sweatshirt over my head. I take out my sunglasses and place the earbuds from my phone into my ears. Trying to walk normally is hard. I didn't expect that I would actually get to do this though. . . .

Shouting catches my attention. I turn to look behind me, three men in uniforms rush towards me. I recognize them from the building Lizzy's office was in. Wow, these guys are good for a quick look at a girl smashing through the window. I try to stay calm, they don't know that it's me, I am a normal person out on a stroll, window shopping. They continue to hurry towards me, their yells getting louder. I can't take anymore of it. I break into a run, letting my feet take me down alleys with multiple twists and turns, hoping to lose them. After like ten minutes of running through the back streets and alleys of central Portland, I stop at a park, catching my breath. I observe where I am, it will give me a decent start on where I can go from here. After finding some benches and wildlife- along with some trees and a collection of shrubs- I recognize the swingset and the slide. I came to this park when I was younger, me and Megan used to love this place, it was practically a second home for us. I turn my feet to the left, I don't have to tell them anything, they're already taking me to the place where I have to go.

I am going home.

I burst through the front door without any warning. Aunt Mallory lies asleep on the couch, a book open on her chest. I don't give her another look as I run up the stairs. Upon entering my room, Megan rubs her head as she leans against my door frame. I frantically throw clothes into a duffel bag, grabbing some necessities as I go.

"Where are you going?" She asks, her eyes cloudy, like glass, she was sleeping apparently. Whoops.

"Out." I reply simply, shoving more clothes into my bag. I look around the room for other things I might need, avoiding eye contact.

"Where is out?" Megan continues to pester me with inane questions. Which are a complete distraction to me. This is all just so complicated!

"Megan, I'm sorry. But," I draw in a deep breath. Why does it have to be so hard to tell your twin that you're leaving for who knows how long. "it's, uh . . . it's just better if you didn't know."

"Lana, I'm your twin. I can when somethings wrong. What's going on?" She closes my door, leaning against, any trace of her sleep gone now. I run a hand through my hair, dried blood sticking to my hand. How did that get there? Rubbing the sticky substance onto my jeans, I return to my packing. "Lana." I go into the bathroom. I can't help but ignore her, she doesn't need to know. "Lana, talk to me." Grabbing my toothbrush and other necessities, I return to my room and shove them into a pocket. "Lana Rebecca Carter, answer me." Megan walks up to me, grabbing my shoulders.

"Megan, I can't-"

"B-S. Spill. Now." Megan lets go of my shoulders but stands near me, making sure that I don't turn away from her. Which I don't.

"I did something. Something I'm not proud about." Tears threaten to spill. I hold them back. This isn't the time nor the place. "And I can't stay here any longer." I take a breath. Though it sounds really like I'm running a marathon. Megan doesn't say anything so I zip up my duffel bag, throwing it over my right shoulder. I pass by Megan, opening the door and then proceeding down the stairs.

"Lana, wait." Megan calls after me. I stop in the kitchen and turn on my heel to face her. Her eyes go to my arms, where I notice have multiple small cuts. Stupid window. Stupid glass. I like my arms, thank you very much! "Where did you get those?!"

"A window." I mumble, not meeting her eyes. Adrenaline and anxiety washes through me. Something bad is going to happen soon, I just know it.

"Lana, listen to me. You're not Jane. You're okay." Megan says in a soothing voice, which isn't helping right now.

"Megan, I know that. I . . ." Not finding the words, I settle for; "I have to go." Megan opens her mouth to say something but the sound of police sirens stop her. She glances at the window, police cars fill up our driveway. She turns back to face me, nodding in understanding.

"Bathroom window, go." She commands, pointing down the hall. I nod, heading towards the bathroom. "Lana," I look over my shoulder at her. "Just promise me that you'll come back. Someday."

A smile creeps on my face. "Promise." Then without waiting a second more, I run to the bathroom and throw open the window. I climb out of it, landing on my feet for a second before running off. I run and run and run until my legs couldn't carry me and then I went on for seven minutes more. I can't hear the sirens anymore so I guess that Megan stalled them for long enough. Ducking into a group of trees near a park, I catch my breath, thinking about the few places I could go for safety.

Then a place crosses my mind. No one goes there any more, it's old and secluded so no one would think to search there, teenagers go there all of the time, and only some people actually remember the site.

The old, abandoned asylum.

Standing in front of the asylum is definitely something that I would not like to do on my own, which I'm doing now. It's creepy, old, and seriously looks haunted. And lucky me I didn't pack my ghost hunting supplies. Watch out everybody, Lana is going to attempt the unattempted: Walk into a haunted asylum without any protection.

I readjust the duffel strap on my shoulder and take a step forward. And another. And another. Soon I reach the door, which is locked, and smash it open with a nearby brick. It shatters under impact and I push the doors open. It looks old and dirty, like a plague happened and they just left everything where it was.

Walking down the corridor of the asylum is very scary. I feel like something is going to jump out at me at any moment. My heart quickens its beats. My palms start to sweat and it affects the grip I have on the handle of my duffle. There's nothing in here. Just empty rooms and non usable equipment. I find a decent looking room and make camp there. I don't take out all of my stuff, just stuff for a bed and a book. If I'm to stay in this hell hole then I need something to keep my mind off of the frights my mind is giving me. Stupid overactive imagination, go bother somebody else.

A few days later, the cops haven't found me yet, which is good, I guess. But now Lizzy's dead, Richie is gone, my family has no idea where I am or what I did, and I don't even know what to do anymore. I can't go back to my family. The cops will find me and I'll be sent away to prison or something. But I can't live the life of a criminal. I can't. Jane survived is, but she didn't have a choice. I guess I don't either. It's decided. Tomorrow I'm leaving Portland. For good. Despite the promise I made to Megan, I honestly don't believe that I'll ever see them again.