Gridlock Asylum

2-Escape

          Darkness invaded Blane's vision, and he wondered how long he had sat rigid in that closet. Moments? Hours? Days? He then realized that his eyes were slightly crusty, and his mouth tasted of morning breath. He must have fallen asleep.

           He shifted, grunting as his stiff muscles, which had been contorted into a rigid right angle for an unknown amount of time, stretched. It took a moment for the most recent set of events to come back to him, and he sighed, resting his face on his hands.

        He sat like this, gathering some sort of courage to move away from this dark corner of the closet. He looked up and saw a tiny sliver of light creeping in through the space between the closet doors. It was very thin, but it was wide enough for him to look out and make sure there was nobody out there to jump him...to attack him.

       He slowly creeped out, pushing the door open ever so slowly, cringing as it creaked on its hinges. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door a little more. Just wide enough for him to pass through. He held his breath as he stood, just waiting for somebody to come out of the shadows and get him.

        But it never happened, and he released his breath when he had ensured that it was safe. He made his way to the bedroom door and gingerly put his hand on the lock, ever so slowly turning it to unlock the door. He listened carefully, straining his ears for signs of life on the other side. He heard none, and, before he knew it, the door was unlocked.

        Placing a hand on the knob, he began to turn it, his fingers shaking with fear...

        Almost. It was almost open...

      Suddenly, there was a loud bang! and Blane turned tail and ran, throwing himself onto his hard bed, pushing himself to the farthest corner he could and covering himself, much like a small child hiding from the monster under the bed.

      He stayed like that for several minutes, his heart pounding as he waited for his father to come bursting in.

       But it never happened, and he slowly uncovered himself, trying to calm his heart.

      He sat up, scooting over and sitting on the edge of his bed, passing a hand over his face. He couldn't live like this. Constant fear. Flagrant hate. He was hunched over, his head in his palms. He felt like crying..

      He had very nearly dozed off slouching over like he was until his door slowly opened. He looked up, his eyes widening. His heart flew up into his throat, and his fists clenched. He couldn't move.

      Then, a delicate hand entered his room, followed by a head of flaming red hair. Nyiah stepped in, her amber wings ruffled from her earlier brawl with their Father.

       She turned and ever so quietly shut the door. Blane sat there, his mind still computing the fact that his sister was no threat to him.

        Nyiah came over and sat beside Blane on his bed to his right, making him cringe when the bed creaked.

       Before she could even speak, Blane hissed, "What are you doing here? Dad's gonna kill you if he sees you!" He was both afraid and angry at how she had frightened him.

      "I had to come and see you. Too make sure you were okay..." she whispered. Her eyes were slightly puffy. She had been crying. Strange. Blane didn't think of her as the type to cry.

      But this was one of those situations that broke even the hardiest of people. Blane had almost cried himself.

     "Blane..." Nyiah's mouth hung open, as if she were afraid to say what she was thinking, "...We can't live like this anymore."