South Side - A Prison Break Story

9. The storm - part 2

Michael

The wall broke down easier than I expected.
It was only one in the morning when I returned to the cell, a good hour before the guards would make their final round.
As quietly and quickly as possible, I made my way back to the hole in the wall of our cell.
I crouched down and crawled through the gap, setting the sink back in place once inside.
It was too dark to tighten the screws, but luckily, I had managed to get hold of a candle.
Fumbling blindly in the dark, I searched for the candle and found it on the small table.
I placed it in front of me and lit it with a match.
Then I began tightening the screws back into the wall.
That's when I noticed the storm had grown worse. Lightning struck close by, and I felt the walls of the building tremble.
A shiver ran down my spine.
A storm like this reminded me just how powerful nature could be.

The screws were now secure, and I stood up, holding the candle in my right hand.
That's when I saw her, and my heart seemed to skip a beat.
She was curled up on her bed, her hands covering her face, knees pulled tightly to her chest.
A wave of concern washed over me, and I set the candle down on the sink, allowing enough light to see her more clearly.
I quickly climbed the ladder and cautiously sat beside her.
"Isabelle?" I asked gently, trying to keep my voice calm and kind.
She didn't seem to hear me.
I carefully took hold of her arm and felt her trembling like a leaf.
It hurt me to see her like this.
She was clearly consumed by intense fear. But of what?
The storm?
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her gently against me.
The first thing I noticed was her rapid breathing.
I had to calm her down.
I began to hum softly, rubbing her upper arm in slow, comforting strokes.
After a while, I felt her muscles gradually start to relax.
Gently, I took her hands away from her face.
"Hey," I whispered, my eyes scanning her face.
Her eyes were closed, her expression tight with fear. I had never seen anyone so terrified before.
"You're safe," I said, hoping to reassure her.
The wind was still howling against the walls, but the thunder had gone silent for a while now.
"Isabelle," I began softly, "open your eyes."
I knew she could hear me.
I saw her eyelids flutter, but they wouldn't open. They were trying to protect her from whatever had scared her so much.
I still couldn't figure it out—what was she so afraid of?

"I'm here with you," I said soothingly, watching her face closely.
I looked at her long black lashes, the dimple in her chin, her sharp cheekbones, the freckles on her nose, and her mouth...
Her mouth had perfectly shaped lips.
I wondered how they would feel if I pressed mine against them.
After a moment, her eyes slowly opened.
I was startled by the look in them.
She gazed at me with such vulnerability, as if she were made of glass and could shatter at any moment.
I realized I wanted to make her feel at ease.
"There you are," I said with a lopsided smile.
I straightened up, noticing she was pulling away from me.
She massaged her temples with her fingers.
I still didn't feel reassured.
"What happened?" I asked gently.
She sighed and let her hands drop.
She turned to face me.
"I'm afraid of thunderstorms."
So that was it.
Thunderstorms.