I don't know how it happens but it basically changes what could have brought sorrow to others. By others I mean myself. Me, myself and I locked in this damn cellar for god knows how long. The window, or more like a glass window that let's no light peep, falls at it's last strength and attempt to keep me inside. It must have been too long, I think to myself as the 'glass' shards fall to the uneven pavement.
The pieces fall slowly but every inch that shows the precious sun, I praise the god I never believed in. The recruiters, or guards of city, could be heard screeching at something just outside the window to the room I've been trapped in.
The wall to my right shows tallies where I had marked the days passing with the peeling of my skin and the blood that oozes. The marks add to 1,825. 5 years.. My math wears on my intelligence but I'm able to tell I'm in my 17th year of life and I've been trapped for 5 years. I drop to my knees with a partial scream or mutter of a word. Barley able to decipher my own voice, I crawl my way to the window. The most strength I've had after the incident 5 years ago, catches up to me and I'm able to latch to the window ledge. Excitement and thrill endure my veins as a cold brush of air hits my fingertips. Actual air, actual life, real world, and people. Oh dear how I've craved people.
I manage to pull myself up and have no trouble sliding out the small gap between the shards and pane of the window. My tiny frame slips out without hesitation. I let out an exasperated sigh and I manage to stumble to my feet. The recruiters have left their spot on the west hemphs wall and I'm free home. I don't actually remember the rest quite well. I slide the blue jacket I was wearing, off of my shoulders and around my waist. Sweatpants, covered in my own blood stains, I tied many times to keep from falling. I still wore my boots from the day I was taken. The tank top of once white color, now lay a dark pink and reeked of metal and dust gathered over time.
I manage to take off in a sprint, my now very long blonde hair following behind me. It must have reached at least the bottom of my spine, for I felt it every time I took a bounce in my freedom step. But freedom must not have been close in reach. The blur of screaming voices and horrified people, yell at my slick figure as the building went screaming by. Automated billboards telling people the jobs of today's task and how the republic of American Precepts is in war with the Australian Elision. I turn my head back to my boots smacking the pavement , attempting to hide my face. I vividly remember the streets but one spot in particular stands out to me the most.
I manage to run faster, my skinny sticks I call legs, don't give in until I hit the curb of a building that is lined in white panels and part brick to the sides. I crawl to the door and reach to the door knob. I turn the silver knob but before I know it my face hits the cold marble floor, and I sink to total blackness.
