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call it fate. call it a coincidence. call it whatever you want. what mattered is that it happened. what mattered is that when the girl with a shaved head and the number 0-1-1 tattooed on her left wrist was running through the gray lab halls, she thought of that one girl.
the girl was always locked in her room. in the room at the corner of the very hall she is now standing, no longer running as she abruptly thought of her in the middle of her fleeing.
just a couple of seconds ago, the head-shaven girl was thinking of her own escape—her own life... and now, she stands here thinking of the other girl's life, too.
call it luck. or call it a mistake. it happens anyway. 0-1-1 opens the door and without a moment to finally look this other girl clearly, after several years of only catching fleeing glimpses, she grabs her hand, and together, they run.
they run through the halls of the mostly vacant laboratory. mostly. fluorescent lights flicker, urging the girl with dark, brittle hair, so long it reaches to her waist, to shield her eyes from the bright light and trust 0-1-1 on where they were headed.
once they make it out of the building, the two girls were lost on where to head next. they had never made it so far out...
knowing nothing past the walls of the building they've lived in all their lives, the two did know one sure thing. one thing that would promise both their freedom.
they have to split up.
they told each other, simply, with the nervy expressions worn on their faces. and the girl with long hair conceded, stretching her lips to what seemed to be a smile. 0-1-1 saw the girl's cheeks perk and ends of her eyes pinch together.
if 0-1-1 knew what words to think... she would think the girl she freed must be really happy.
they let go of their binder hands, and the long-haired girl flees first. she sprints. before she turns a corner, she looks back. she sees 0-1-1 run towards the direction of a dry sewer.
as for her own escape route, the teenager runs to the long, electrical fence. she props her hand up, points at the power box, and it implodes. the electric shocks die out, giving her the ability to crawls up and jump over the fest.
now, she walks her first steps of freedom with her own bare feet... millions and billions of more times, she has imagined this. the scene of her leaving this forsaken place.
she runs and runs, panting and breathing in and out the cool air of hawkins, indiana's outskirts.
she escaped. and that is fate. it always was. this is meant to be.
