Fighting My Way Out

You'll Never See Me Coming

I must have dozed off in sheer exhaustion as I was woken abruptly by the basement door unlocking. I jolted to alertness having nearly forgotten my plan of attack as Allen stepped down the stairs, but I quickly pulled myself together to brace for the coming events. I squeezed the brick tighter in my hand as he stepped closer to me, and I tried to hold myself together to not immediately strike just because he was close in proximity.

"Here," he said, "eat."

He knelt to place the plate of crusty bread and cheese on the floor, unsuspecting anything was amiss. When he straightened again, he turned without care and began to walk away; he would never see it coming. I knew that was my one chance at freedom.

I leapt to my feet without a sound, summoning every ounce of strength, determination, and pure rage at my situation. With all those forces combined, I reared the brick back and struck Allen in the base of the head. I heard the loud crack as they made contact and Allen crumpled to the floor with a soft 'omph'. But my adrenaline and anger were too high as I unthinkingly struck him again and again against his head. In the back of my mind I knew what I was doing was wrong and I was probably killing him, but the animalistic side had taken over and didn't care. My anger and hatred had boiled over too far for me to stop at just one hit and I wasn't fully aware of my actions until it was done and I was looking down upon his bloody form. I didn't bother checking for a pulse, somehow caring too little to what happened to that man at my feet. But also too afraid to know what I was truly capable of doing to another human being. But like I said: it was only polite.

I looked up the stairs to the open door at the top, having one more obstacle to get through. I stepped up the stairs, brick in hand, blood pumping loudly in my ears. At the top, I paused, not knowing where Jill was or if that couple was still in the house somewhere. I was just going to have to take my chances and figure it out.

I stepped out onto the landing, looking side to side at the surrounding hallway clear of people. I could hear the static-y sounds of a TV in the far corner of the house and Jill laughing at something. I crept closer to the sound, careful not to make any sounds of my own. As I stepped around the corner into the living room, I saw Jill alone spread out on the couch, a beer in hand, laughing at some ridiculous housewives show. I briefly wondered if I could sneak out the front door without Jill noticing since she seemed wrapped up in the show. But I knew that woman would hunt me down once she found Allen and their human prize gone. I knew I must also knock out Jill, to make a clean escape.

I stepped closer, once again raising the brick, toward the back of Jill's head. Without a second thought, I collided it against the back of her skull. Another cracking sound and Jill slumped over, almost looking as though she was merely sleeping if I overlooked the blood quickly leaking out.

It was only then that I was able to breathe a sigh, not realizing I had been holding it for several moments. I looked at Jill's slumped from and with a fluttering heart I realized I had taken out the people who kidnapped me. But I wasn't free yet.

I dropped the brick, not caring about fingerprints, or evidence, or anything other than bolting to the front door. Outside, I was greeted by the blistry winter winds and the snow covered ground; it was night, but the snow reflecting the moon's glow gave the impression of light. The scent of fresh, forest air filled my lungs as I breathed deeply trying to rid my nose of the stench of the basement dwelling.

Stepping out onto the freshly fallen snow, I realized I didn't have any shoes and the snow between my toes was bitingly cold. I also had no coat and only that thin cotton robe that barely covered me; I would have to get over that fact and press on.

The woods surrounding me appeared endless and dark, shadow monsters seemed to lurk around every corner as I stumbled around looking for a path or a sign. Not knowing where the road was, I wandered aimlessly hoping to hear the sound of a passing car. I was unconscious when they brought me to their house; I might not have been in the same town as before. Listening was to no avail as no sound reached my ears besides the hoots of owls and the croaks of distant frogs. But it didn't matter if I couldn't immediately find my way out; as long as I was free of those monsters, I had time on my side to figure it out.

How could I have been so stupid? Looking up those people, thinking I could learn more about my birth family and form a relationship with them, it was crazy of me. I didn't kick myself too much about it, though; how could I have known they were psychopaths who sell people for money under a false identity. I was, however, kicking myself over the fact I didn't at least have a discussion about it with my adopted family; that was just idiotic of me. Now I was free, it was over and behind me.

After what felt like miles (and was likely less than two), a road opened up to me, a long stretch of endless asphalt. It didn't matter which way I turned, all roads lead somewhere where I could get help. I walked, my feet numb to any feeling and I was surprised I was still standing let alone walking. I supposed my will was keeping me alive to find my way back home, back to my real parents, adopted or otherwise.

On the road, a couple cars passed me and I tried to flag them down but none of them even slowed. I thought I probably looked like a dirty homeless person wandering around at night, of course no one was going to want to pick me up. I would need to get to the next town if I had any hope of finding a phone to contact my parents. I didn't care how long it took to make it to town, as long as I survived long enough to get there.