I jolted awake with a strangled gasp, my chest heaving as I sat up, clutching the blanket that barely kept the chill away. My eyes darted around the room, the same dim, suffocating prison that had been my entire world for all six years of my short life. The same cracked walls, stained with time and dampness, loomed over me like silent sentinels. Always watching. Always the same.
Deja vu. That's what Mister called it.
But it wasn't deja vu. it was just life here. Or the lack of it. Just like yesterday, Just like every day before.
"It's always the same," I whispered to no one, my voice trembling as it disappeared into the heavy silence. No one ever answered me.
Once, I had dared to ask too many questions, why am I here? Why can't I leave? What's beyond the door? Mister hadn't liked that. His punishment had been swift, taking the one comfort I had: my books. Pages filled with words and worlds I could escape into, now gone. Without them, I had nothing but the echo of my own thoughts and the fragile promise I clung to.
I would see the sky one day.
The first time I'd heard Mister complain about it, I was four. He'd spat the word as if it were poison. "The damned blue sky," he'd grumbled under his breath. But to me, it sounded like something out of a dream. Something beautiful. Something worth living for. It had become the single thread keeping me from unraveling. If I could just see the sky, maybe life would be worth living.
Time was meaningless in this place. The candle flickered inconsistently, neither day nor night, just an endless gray haze. But Mister should have been back by now. He always came back. my stomach twisted as I stared at the door.
In all the years I'd been here, he had never hurt me. not physically. But he didn't have to. His words, his presence, the way he looked at me as though I were a mistake he couldn't fix. all of it cut deeper than any wound ever could.
Why keep me here?
I slid off the rickety bed, my bare feet touching the icy floor. Slowly, I crept toward the door. I pressed my ear against the rough wood, straining to hear something, anything.
Silence.
The door creaked as I leaned into it. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.
It wasn't locked.
My breath hitched, disbelief making me dizzy. mister always locked the door. always.
Shaking, I pushed it open, wincing at the groan of the rusty hinges. Beyond it was a shabby, cluttered room, the one I'd glimpsed only briefly when Mister brought my food. Empty plates were stacked on a crooked table. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by the faint draft from a crack in the wall.
He wasn't here.
The air felt different, like it was pressing against me, daring me to step further. My legs trembled as I took a cautious step forward, then another. Each movement felt like defiance, like breaking a rule I'd never been told but somehow always knew.
And then I ran.
My feet slapped against the cold floor as I stumbled forward, past the room, past the shadows that had always kept me caged. The door to the outside was ajar, the faint scent of something earthy, something alive, pulling me toward it.
The moment I crossed the threshold, the world exploded.
The ground was uneven beneath my bare feet, and my legs wobbled from years of stillness, but I didn't stop. The air hit my face like a slap, sharp and clean, so different from the stale, suffocating air inside. My lungs burned as I gasped for breath, each one filling me with something I couldn't name.
I kept running until I couldn't anymore, collapsing onto soft, damp grass.
And then I looked up.
It wasn't just blue. The sky was alive. It stretched forever, its vast expanse broken only by soft, drifting clouds. Light poured from above, bathing everything in a golden glow I had only dreamed of. The warmth kissed my skin, and for the first time, I felt the sun. a soft, gentle touch that no words could capture.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, unbidden, as my chest ached with something I'd never felt before. Was this joy? Freedom? Whatever it was, it was too big to hold inside.
