Nada's Escape

28- Wait.

A shiver runs down my spine like a rain-soaked leach and my legs jerk me upright. My heart is a throbbing nest of paper wasps. My hand presses against my collar bone while my skin itches with insects. I can't stay still as mosquitoes leave tiny itches in my pores and spiders harry down my back. The pearls are missing from my neck so I tap my foot on the waiting room floor but it isn't nearly enough to ease my trepidation. Hurry up Finley.

The door hisses open and my heart jumps into my throat. It is a warden. One of the usual night wardens, dark haired and dark-skinned. Still, panic flutters in my chest while I gasp in more air. I instinctively check the camera above his head, shifting from foot to foot.

"Would you like to sit down please? Your sponsor is on his way." I forcibly command my legs to stop fidgeting, just managing to calm the inevitably shifting muscles. I am still a frazzled mess of live nerve endings. I can't handle sitting down. My eyes must go really scary because the warden takes a metaphoric step back. He too checks the camera and then the door behind me.

"I see. Are you sure about this?" He asks. My body ripples with violent indecision and I pace my way to the outer door, turning around with a jerk.

"Yes, no, perhaps, probably not- oh god." I drop my head. I need to get a hold of myself. But I can't stay in Seven anymore, can I?

Macie's voice hissing in my mind again, they'll never forgive you... I can't stay, for a hundred reasons. Seven used to be my prison, but it has become a home for monsters. My helplessness is a poltergeist trapped between my cell and Macie's room, my violence stalks like a shadow across the floors and lying in a puddle of bloodied water lies that monster, awaiting discovery.

"You always have a choice." The warden replies, in a tone approaching kindness. I shake my head at his deep, empty eyes.

"No. I don't. This is it." At least I am breathing normally now. I try to focus on that. The warden leaves without another word and once again the waiting room is empty. I face the door waiting in front of the night. Hurry up Finley. I cross my legs and twist my arms in a Celtic knot behind me. Get me outta here.

By the time Finley makes it in the door I am feeling okay; I've shoved all my demons back in their boxes. Outside the frenetic energy of the rain has slowed. He blinks at me; back straight and legs and arms twisted together in the greyscale waiting room. I finally trust my limbs to obey me and relax into a pose involving less effort. I don't know what to say. Hissing comes from the door behind me and I flinch. Finley steps protectively around me and I am relieved, although I shouldn't be.

"Walter," he looks at me the for confirmation, "I think we'll go outside." I nod; I need some space.

We sit outside under the eaves with rain spitting up onto our knees from the earth. I breathe in the scent of the storm, letting it cool my anger, my pain, my sorrow. Just like always, water washes everything away, making mud and cleaning away the blood. Finley's presence is also calming, though perhaps it shouldn't be.

My rational cogs begin to turn. I've followed Macie's instruction so far- don't get caught -and now I have to keep it that way.

"What's up?" He asks after an elastic silence. I glance into the night and sigh. I am about to throw myself onto the protection of Finley, the most worm-like thing I have ever done. But it is also for survival.

"I want to leave. Tonight." I say.

"Okay," he whispers. I close my eyes, so glad he hasn't asked me why. "Are you sure?"

"I can't spend another minute here." I plead at the rain that drips an incessant song of melancholy.

"Okay." Finley's tone is solemn. I haven't told him a thing and yet he gets it. He goes along with it.

"Hmm... the ribbons won't be ready until Thursday." Silence hangs in disappointed strands as I scrunch my hands into a ball beneath my knees.

"Maybe I could get a visitor's pass, so you don't have to spend the night here..."

"No. " I interrupt, "If you can't get me out of here permanently, this instant, I'll have to find some other way." I stand up and itch at my wrist. There is something flaky there like dead skin.

"Take the oath or I'll sneak you out then." Finley notices my nervous itching.

A glob of water splashes against the back of my neck, raising goose bumps along my arms, "Let's sneak. I need to be gone." I reply. Then I shiver, partly out of cold, partly out of expectation.

"Are you cold?" Finley asks, pulling his jumper over his head. Of course he would. As he offers it to me I take stock of the choice I am making.

"Yeah," I whisper, accepting the promise of warmth. "Can we go now?" I'm impressed that my voice doesn't crack.

He gives me a tiny smile, the only sliver of delight in this cold, hard night. "I had the wardens keep a large present box on hand in case I ever needed to surprise you. Come see."