Being Beauty

Excuse Me?

I leave the dining hall and walk casually and aimlessly through the house. I make my way into the foyer- a massive sitting room at the front of the house- and plop down onto the window seat. Like the windows in my room, this window has double-thick glass with steel rods criss-crossing the outside. I try to be as nonchalant as possible as I tap the glass several times, rapping a little harder each time. It's almost like tapping on plastic, the pane is so thick. I'm not even sure a bullet could pierce it. I chew on my lip and start feeling along the edges of the window. Just then Emily walks in and I slowly slide my fingers away from the edges of the window and down to the little sill at the bottom.

"Avery?"

"Huh?" I don't bother even looking at her. Why I had ever let myself start liking her to begin with, I'll never know! Maybe I'm developing Stockholm Syndrome. How perfect.

"Avery, you seem upset. Do you want to talk?" she asks. I can see her inching toward me, slowly.

Honestly, I want to pour my heart out to her. I want to tell her how scared I am and how I don't trust any of them and how I think they are all crazy. I'm . . . I hate her! But I don't. I'm so confused. So I keep quiet instead, tracing my finger along the window sill over and over again.

"Aver-"

"Leave her be," Adam's gruff voice interrupts.

I immediately jerk in the direction of his voice. He glowers at me with his heterochromatic eyes; one alarmingly blue and one so brown it's almost black. The contrast of color is pretty . . . when you aren't at the end of the fierce glare they hold. He stares at me for a second more before turning down the hallway and into the dark. I hear him grunt at Emily, his signal that she should follow. She hesitates, looking at me for a sign that maybe I want to talk. But I ignore her and she leaves.

I listen as their footsteps fade down the hall. Once I am sure they are gone, I go back to inspecting the window. I figure, if I can't break the glass, maybe I can remove it. The wood trim around the window is thick and nailed down almost too well. It's like they were afraid someone might try to steal the trim so it is riddled with tiny, nearly invisible nails. It will take me forever to remove them, especially since I have to do it in secret. I think back to the broadsword in the dining hall. It will probably be tremendously heavy but, if I can sneak it to my room, I can use it to pry the trim away from the window.

The next thing I'll have to do is pry the steel bars from the window. I get up and make my way to the door. I take a cautious look around to make sure no one is following me and I slip out the front door. I go to the left and walk up to the house where the window is. The bars are screwed tightly into the stone. I'd have to either find a way to unscrew the bars or to chip away the stone. Either way, it will be loud and I can't have that. A little bit of me starts to regret not watching more MacGyver with my dad. Maybe this would be easier if I had.

I walk away from the low foyer window and go around to the other side of the house. My window is set up high overlooking the estate grounds and part of the extensive garden. I look up at it and wonder how I would even get the bars off. I can't break the glass and if I remove it I will have to push it out toward the bars which block the way. I give an irritated huff and decide that going through the window isn't an option. But there has to be another way. . .

I start toward the drive that leads down to the gate. Maybe I could climb my way out. I take another cautious look around and walk slowly down the long, paved drive. I notice the little wild flowers that grow near the pavement and I start to pick them in case I need to explain my whereabouts later. By the time I reach the towering black gate, I have a handful of yellow and purple flowers. I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching. Satisfied that the coast is clear, I set down the flowers and start to fidget with the lock.If I can pick the lock, I won't have to try to climb out.