Entium

Chapter 4

Water bottles. Check. Hoodies, old scarves, plastic sheets, basically anything needed to keep warm. Check. Rucksacks. Check. Sanity. No check there...

Al felt like she was losing her mind. She may have lived a depressing, empty life beforehand but at least it was simple to a mediocre mind. Of course, she did want to leave; but planning the entire thing was possibly the most difficult task of them all, and so stressful it would be enough to call off the entire escape. 

Al and Michelle were in the kitchen, packed and ready to go, one huge heavy dark grey rucksack each, both filled with food, clothing and 2 medium (now filled) water bottles. Only 2. The pair of them knew this wouldn't be enough to last them long, the trek across the country would be physically daunting work and they would be fools to think they could survive on four lousy bottles of water between them. The hope was that during their journey it would rain; hard. Enough to refill their bottles and keep them alive. 

It would make sense to buy more plastic bottles but Michelle didn't want the Robeings to get suspicious. Four was enough to raise a few of the neighbour's eyebrows. Bread, nuts, fruit and some ugly cheap shirts were also bought, these shirts were in case any of them were to get a graze or cut - a type of plaid bandage. 

"Right then. I think we're all done." Michelle decided, with a hint of determination in her voice. She carelessly threw the last of the nuts randomly into the bag, zipped it up, wrapped a scarf around her neck, lifted her hood over her head and cracked her knuckles. Michelle looked quite menacing like this. Her hair was tucked behind her hood and he pale face seemed worn out and pointy.

A bottle of deodorant would have been a lovely luxury to take because Al could already feel herself beginning to sweat. Al nodded in agreement and the girls heaved their rucksacks over their shoulders. If Al was of a normal weight, and in perfect health, she would be able to lift the bag over her shoulders with little or no struggle - but Al was not strong, and not used to carrying such a weight on her back, she could carry as much emotional weight as humanly possible - but physically, she could already see this being an issue.

It was 10:45pm. Light had become victim to the dark. It would be in favour of the girls, as no one would be able to see them. Although if Al and Michelle were being followed, they wouldn't know it.

The pair walked towards the front door. Each step seemed to get louder and louder. Each beat of their hearts, faster and faster. Once they reached the front door, the two glanced around their house; their home. This would be the last time they ever saw it. The dirty walls, the dusty carpet. Al looked over to Michelle.

"Are you ready?"

"Hell yes." 

As quietly as possible, Al slid across the bolt, reached for the handle, and opened the door. 

*************

The cold breeze awoke Al's senses. Before they knew it the two were already stood on the drive. Michelle creeped quickly down to the bottom of the driveway and darted her eyes up and down the road.  Al went to close the door. Should she close the door? Is there any point? Of course there is. 

Al steadily closed the door and fleeted her eyes towards Michelle. 

Michelle signaled that it was clear. There seemed to be no signs of life. Al and Michelle could have been the only people in the world, the street was as quiet as a coffin. 

Fast pacing. Running would have made too much noise; it might initiate someone to peek out of their window.

Bottom of the street. 

"Left or right?" Michelle asked, panicky. 

"Right." 

Running. Running, now. The opening to the woods was in sight. Al hadn't noticed just how close they lived to this valley of nature. 

A noise. A bark? A voice? Too late to look.

Trees. Mud. Leaves. Darkness. Al couldn't see a thing; couldn't see Michelle. Still running, she called for her friend. Al had earlier been running ahead of her, too focused to even turn to make sure her friend was following suit. I'm a bad friend. Al thought. Suddenly Al crashed into something large, and soft. She plummeted to the ground, landing on her side, twigs on the damp ground scraping her face. 

A Robeing. Al's throat went dry. Her face was stinging. Laid on the ground, tired, helpless. She waited for a sudden crash of pain. 

The pain never came. The large, soft object she had ran into, spoke. 

"Blimey! At least these five shirts I'm wearing cushioned the blow."

A sweet, though winded voice. Not Michelle's voice. However she recognised it. This voice, Al thought that she would never hear again, and had dearly missed it.