The House of Sorrows

Chapter 46: "Stitches"

          It's been 2 days since I made my plan to escape. Today was finally the day to pull it off. Bailey was about to leave on her usual two hour disappearance, and when she got back, I would be gone.

          I'd spent the past few days preparing, I managed to pull out my IV drip a few hours ago and the drugs had worn off soon after. *Bang*, there, she just left. It was time to get into action. Slowly, I pulled at the needle I'd taken out of my arm and used it to pry open the locks on the cuffs secured around my wrists. It took awhile, longer than I'd hoped, really, but I eventually heard the telling *click* of the locking mechanism. I carefully pulled my wrist from the cuff and used it to get momentum enough to sit up. I winced as I felt the stitches on my stomach pull against my skin. I turned over enough that I could unlock the other cuff on my left arm. After another half hour or so I managed to get free.

          My head was spinning, my whole body hurt, and my legs felt like they were about to collapse under my weight. I took my first full step away from the bed and silently made my way to the window—the only place I knew would be unlocked. While Bailey had been smart—locking the door to the room I was in from the outside—she didn't take into account my affinity with climbing. Which will come in handy as I try to escape from the window that's seven feet off the ground.

          I grabbed the stool I'd eyed for my escape earlier that day and moved it underneath the window. *Tick*, the clock sounded from up on the wall. Crap. This was taking too long. It's been at least an hour since she's left, which left me approximately an hour to get out of this room and make it far enough away to find help. I moved unsteadily up onto the stool, taking it as slowly as I could. With one foot firmly placed I moved to bounce my second leg up, but a wave of dizziness hit me and I doubled over, taking the stool with me to the floor.

"Shit." I muttered to myself, I could feel the strenuous work affecting my weakened muscles.

I stood back up and went to try again. After a painfully long time I managed my way up the stool and stood face to face with the small glass window. Honestly, it was going to be a tight fit, it certainly wasn't made for people to squeeze through. I was reaching up for the windows latch when I froze. Shuffling, from upstairs. No, no, no, NO!, It hadn't been two hours already, had it? Or had Bailey just come back early? I needed to get out now. I quickly undid the latch and began to pull myself up when I heard Bailey calling.

"Oh Lucy, I have a present for you! You've seemed a bit...down, these past few days, so I brought something that might cheer you up." I heard her words echo through the house, the sing-songy tone she said it in did nothing to hide the underlying malicious intent.

My heart started thundering in my chest, my ears rung as I painfully pulled the first quarter of my body through the window.
*Thud*
*Thud*
*Thud*
*Thud*
Each sound meant she was getting closer.

"Lucy, I don't like to be ignored." Her voice sounded closer than I thought.

Now half way through my eyes were straining with tears, the throbbing pain in my stomach had become a sharp agony that ricocheted through my nerves every movement I made. I felt the catch of the lightweight fabric from my nightgown get stuck on a protruding nail. As I struggled to free it, Bailey was opening the door. Yes, I silently cheered myself when I got it loose. Too late.

"Why so quiet—Lucy. That's not very nice now is it." She spoke with a false frown and mocking as she looked at me making my way out the window.

I panicked and doubled down on my efforts to wriggle through the small opening. Just then I felt a cold hand grip my bare ankle, trying to drag me down. I thrashed against her grip and managed to kick what I think was her face.

"You...Bitch." She seethed, the venom in her voice only made for further motivation to escape.

Almost there. Three quarters of the way out. I was so close. I felt her hands once again grip onto my legs, this time with her nails digging in painfully. I whimpered as I clawed the windowsill, hoping to find more purchase for my fingers. As she yanked down, I used all my might to lurch forward. I shrieked as I felt a sharp piercing pain run through my thigh, but I didn't take a second to look. No. Whatever it was wouldn't kill me, hesitating would. I scrambled upwards, once again feeling the agony of the wound on my torso. One last push and I'd be through, out, so I wouldn't give up. Couldn't.

With one last burst of energy, I reared my foot back. Hard. I felt it connect with her chest as she fell backwards. I screamed as I pulled myself the rest of the way out, not stopping to take the time to assess my surroundings. I ran. I ran as fast as I could in the first direction I saw.

I don't know how long I ran for, just that I did until I couldn't anymore. I ducked into an alley and hid behind a foul smelling dumpster. The night was silent other than the sound of sirens wailing and cars thrumming off in the distance. The occasional dog barked. But thankfully, no sounds of people. Only then did I allow myself to truly look around. The street was empty, but not too dark, yet, though it would be soon. I didn't recognize where I was at first, not until I looked up at a street sign half-hidden in a trees branches that I realized. I was not too far from home. Only about three miles away. Though, in my condition, it might've been 100 miles.

Once my breathing started to steady, and I felt like I wasn't going to black out if I moved a single muscle, I looked down. I saw blood seeping through the makeshift hospital gown. Along with a new jagged gash along my thigh from what I assume was the nail that had caught the cloth earlier. Damn it. That's too much blood. I allowed myself to sit for a minute, but soon I forced myself up and hoped my legs could carry me home.

Home. Portland Row. That's my next stop.