Tabby's Day To Escape

4. Tabby's Day To Escape

Today's the day. It's early morning. Everything seems just as I expected it to be. I see the milkman being tailed by the same dog who always does—five more minutes and my brother will be awake; sleepwalking towards the bathroom before opening the window for me.

He opens the windows and pours water and food in the respective bowls. I won't be skipping my morning meal, as there's no saying when I'll get my next one. In the next thirty minutes, he will get ready for his school. Hurrying from one room to the next, but not forgetting to spare me a kiss or two on the way. As annoying as it is, I take it for It's the last day that I have to bear him. No more kisses after today—thankfully.

I have to be careful and act as I always do, act as if it's just another day. If my brother senses anything is different, he'll raise an alarm. If he raises an alarm, he'll break the chain of events which take place regularly, adding in more uncertainty in my plan and decreasing my chances of successfully breaking out. So I continue as if I am not stressed and anxious at all, as if it's just a typical day. I have to play around, jump around on the dining table chairs and wait at the pillar near the doorway as my brother would be ready to leave for the day.

Everything seems okay so far. No one suspects anything. Two more minutes and I'll bid farewell to my brother for the very last time. I will miss him, surely but you gotta lose something in order to gain something. I may be leaving my family behind, ones who provided me with shelter, food and love when I had none, but I won't ever forget them. They'll forever stay encased in my heart, always with me. I am hopeful for the future they will see, also the future I will unravel for myself. May fate let us meet again.

I jumped on the pillar and let out a meow, seeing my brother close the grill and open the door to the lift before vanishing underneath the floor. I've seen him do this many times and I have come to the conclusion that the last button he presses takes the lift to the lowest floor, where the building compound is—a place where I was first brought from. I still have memories of the compound, its structure and everything so that's not an issue. The issue, however, was that the grill on the lift was too tight for me to pass through and even if I were to somehow manage that, then it was impossible for me to press a button so high with my paws.

The solution to this issue? Stairs. Next to the lift, going up and down, they had to replace the lift. I had seen the woman who collected garbage, use it several times. Using the flight of stairs to come to our floor and again use it to go to the lower one. And from what I remember while coming up to our floor by the lift the first day, I can tell that every floor is laid out the same way our floor is, meaning that taking the stairs to go below would seem like taking the stairs of the floor above to come to our floor. I wouldn't need to figure out the way, I'd just need to keep spiralling down the stairs until I'd reach the ground floor. At least, that's what I have theorised.

It's been fifteen minutes that my brother has been gone for. My mother, as usual, is busy in the kitchen. She would stay there for five more minutes before the doorbell would ring, presenting to me my first opportunity—The clothes guy. And luckily, today is the fourth day of the week and he will have clothes to return. My mother will open the door and that's when I'll be able to slip out.
This time is usually when I sleep on a bag, under the bed and no one cares to check on me. I've done this everyday and I don't think anyone will come to check me for any reason. Perfect.

I crouch behind the sofa set, hiding in the darkness, waiting for the doorbell to ring. It rings, and my mother rushes from the kitchen to open the door. As she passes me, I tiptoe behind her, making sure she doesn't catch me. She opens the door.

My eyes open wide, ears straighten. My heart races and my paws twitch. I feel my whiskers weighing down due to the water droplets on it from lapping some water moments ago. I'm waiting for the grill to open, my eyes all locked onto the edges of the door kissing the frame. The moment the door opens and I see the little slit widening, I have to quickly slip through the door and run towards the stairs, before the man or my mother would get the time to notice me.
I take my stance, but nothing. The door doesn't open. I turn my head up to find my mother speaking with the man, but not showing the slightest tendency to open the door. I freak out. My heart beats even faster, making me scared if it'll just explode. My muscles are all twitching by now, all my senses sharp and alert. It's all a waste though.

I quickly improvise. I carefully go under my mother's gown and missing her feet, come out from the other side. Phew! It was close. I jog back to the sofa set, and go into hiding again.

I lost one opportunity, now there's only one. Fifteen minutes from now and the last chance would present itself—the garbage woman and there's no uncertainty with this one. The garbage has to be thrown everyday. I even checked the garbage bin the first thing in the morning and it will need to be emptied. The door will be opened for a very short time but there will be two pairs of eyes, their field of vision covering the floor, creating a red zone for me. One mistake I make, and I get caught. Getting caught will mean that they'll be careful from the next time before opening the door with me in the house—decreasing my chances of breaking out drastically. If that happens, I'll be locked in here forever, losing my only purpose in life.

There's one option though—Jumping from the balcony but that's not a completely safe alternative. It's too high. If I fail to make a soft and safe landing, I'll risk losing my limbs. Having broken limbs will be as good as losing your life. So, jumping from the balcony? Rather a 60% chance of being successful in committing suicide. The bottom line? I only have one chance and if I screw it up, it's all over for me. The colourful future I always imagined would be a fairy tale, while a dull and dark future within these walls will be my unfortunate reality.

The doorbell rings again, and the sound reverberates in my ears. This the last bell I'll be hearing. I wait for my mother again. This time, she rushes towards the door with the garbage bag in her hand. Bingo! My heart picks pace again, blood gushes to my muscles, making them twitch for swift action. The moment my mother passes the sofa, I start shadowing her carefully. We reach the door and I stay to my mother's right, keeping away from her field of vision, which is directed towards the garbage bag.

I halt for a moment, eyes again locked onto the edges of the door. I take a deep breath in, and feel my pounding heart. This is it.
The door cracks a bit, time slows down. My eyes are wide to take in as much as possible. It feels as if they'll pop out of the socket. I see the sliver widen as faint light from beyond the door starts flowing in. Just as I was about to make the run, it struck me. I couldn't. The garbage bag was still in the house, meaning that eyes would be down, not just one but two pair of eyes. I would get caught definitely. I tried pushing my mental capabilities further, to come up with something. I turned up and saw the garbage bag, swiftly twisting to the left. For a moment, I saw my mother's gaze jumping to the woman. That was it! I quickly slid under the bag and shadowed it. The bag was completely blocking me from my mother. I focused onto the wide gateway to the unknown.

Soft welcoming light, a bizarre aroma of the unknown and sounds unfathomable to me. I matched the pace of the bag and saw as the slit came closer and closer, the light growing brighter and brighter. It was as if I was in a dark tunnel, running towards the only source of light, towards freedom, dreams and purpose.