Escape (ON HIATUS)

CHAPTER ONE

Escaping from the life you lead is a natural desire that almost everyone will encounter at some point or another. To just pack up and leave without a trace, to disappear without responsibilities tying you down or keeping you back is something that can only be dreamt about for most. However, it was an all-too-frequent thought in Callie Ryan's mind, and something she swore she would do sooner or later. There are only so many years a person can tolerate being alone, clocking in and out of a job they have no passion for - not making any real difference in the world by doing so. Sometimes she would think it would be okay to not wake up one day, and to just sleep forever. She wouldn't have to face the routine she had steadily sickened herself of, and she'd finally be free; she'd finally escape.

There were always thoughts like these that entered her mind when she was alone, autonomously scrubbing down tables and clearing away dishes after closing at the cafe. She often blamed these thoughts as the reason she didn't get home until after 9pm most nights, but she couldn't help herself from drifting away and dreaming of another life. It was almost an obsession, this dream life. She thought of it constantly when completely alone: before sleep, in the shower, during the car journey to work, before opening the cafe, and after closing. It drove her a little crazy - stir-crazy, that is.

She snapped herself out of her usual trance-like state and tried to work out how far along in the cleaning-up process she currently was. As she looked around her, she noticed all but one table had the chairs set upside down on top of it, indicating that she was coming up to the last part of her day: sweeping and mopping the floor ready for the next day ahead.

The cafe (named Ryan's Café after her family surname) was owned by her parents, Mike and Jenna, who were conveniently living in France running a winery, which didn't quite help her loneliness. Her parents had taken the cafe over shortly before Callie's older sister was born, just after they had married and moved to the town to settle down. Her father ran the figures, whilst her mother dealt with the decorative side of things, giving the cafe its signature green and pink polka dot look. Callie liked the quirky nature of the cafe's appearance - it felt bright and cheerful, even when she didn't.

As she wiped off the remainder of crumbs and tea stains from the table's surface, she made her way towards the sink to rinse the cloth she had been using. Just as she stepped up into the serving bar area, she heard distant shouts and screams. She shrugged it off - it was probably another student protest, or some unfortunate celebrity who had run into a crowd of adoring fans. The screaming gradually grew louder, as if the crowd were heading her way, but Callie continued to ignore it. Louder and louder, closer and closer, the screams and shouts of a predominantly female crowd were now distinguishable and Callie could roughly make out what it was they were shouting. Just as she turned to look out the glass of the front door, a figure came rushing up the front porch, bursting through the door Callie had clearly forgotten to lock. She gasped slightly at the shock of the unexpected visitor arriving in such an unexpected way.

"I'm sorry, but we're closed," she quickly announced, stepping down from the serving area.

She felt nervous for some reason, and that surely reflected in her voice - rather than sounding commanding and authoritative, she was instead nervous and apprehensive. The figure in front of her was bent over double catching their breath, crouched just out of sight between the door and one of the windows. Callie quickly established it was a man, purely from his size and build. This seemed to make her all the more tense and anxious.

"Please... I'm sorry..." He was breathless, as if he had been sprinting for a good mile or two, so he was struggling to form basic, coherent sentences. He coughed to clear his throat and tried again: "I don't mean to barge in like this... Could I-"