Live A Little

Ch 34 : Run

Alora's P.O.V

I turn to see Dad walking towards me with a stern expression.

"Answer me, Alora, where are you going?" His voice is a mixture of concern and authority.

I take a deep breath and clench my fists to keep my calm. "Away from all this darkness," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Dad's expression softens for a moment, a flicker of pain in his eyes. "You can't just run away, Alora. You have to face it."

Tears well up in my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. "I can't stay here, Dad. It's suffocating me."

He takes a step closer, reaching out to touch my arm gently. "Let me help you. We can fight this together. Don't leave us please"

I couldn't stop the falling tears after his statement. Can I really live in a place that stands against everything I believe in? Don't they get rich by supplying drugs to people like Mom, who then turn to make their children's lives hell?

"Sorry, Dad, but I can't stay," I mumble, wiping my tears as his eyes harden.

"Then you leave me no choice, Alora, because I am not letting you go, knowing the dangers lurking outside." He grabs my arm and drags me inside as I yell and scream for him to let me go.

As I struggle against his grip, the walls of the house feel like they're closing in on me. The shadows of our broken past dance around us, threatening to swallow me whole.

"Dad, please! You don't understand!" I cry out, my voice cracking with desperation.

He stops and turns to face me, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain. "I do understand, Alora. More than you think. But running away won't solve anything. There are so many people lurking in the shadows, ready to take you the moment they realize you have no one protecting you."

He gently pushes me inside my room and says, "There will be guards everywhere, and this door will be locked at all times. I'm sorry, Alora." He shuts the door as I break down yet again today.

I collapse onto my bed, tears streaming down my face, my heart aching with the weight of his words. The walls of my room feel like a prison, and the shadows outside seem to creep closer, threatening to swallow me whole.

As I lie there, sobbing, I think about the life I've been trapped in-the constant fear, the lies, the darkness. I can't help but wonder if there's a way out, a glimmer of hope in this seemingly endless night.

Hours pass, and the cold, unforgiving darkness of the night seeps into my bones. I hear the occasional footsteps of the guards outside, a reminder of my captivity. But amidst the despair, a small spark ignites within me-a determination to find a way out, to break free from this suffocating existence.

I wipe away my tears and sit up, my mind racing with possibilities. I need to be strong, to find a way to escape, no matter the cost.

I look towards my window as an idea begins to form. I walk over and glance down; I'm on the second floor, too high to jump from. Perhaps that's why there are no guards stationed here.

Determined, I grab my bedsheets and begin tying them together to create a makeshift rope. My hands tremble, but I work quickly, fueled by a newfound resolve. I secure one end to the bedpost and toss the other end out the window, watching it unfurl towards the ground below.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly grab my car keys and begin my descent, the cold night air biting at my skin. The knots hold, but my heart races with every step I take down the fragile rope.

About halfway down, a distant noise catches my attention-footsteps approaching. Panic surges through me, but I force myself to stay focused, gripping the makeshift rope tightly as I continue my descent.