Chapter 3

30 7 8
                                    


The murmur of voices had climaxed to full-out shouting again. Rolling over onto her stomach, Astrid buried her face in the pillow, fingers intertwining across the back of her head. She switched the song the chip was currently playing to something different. It was unfamiliar, its simple and haunting melody sticking out from the hundreds of upbeat songs that created her escape.

"This world doesn't give any second chances,

Pullin' strings, puppets do her dances.

Make an oath, sign it with your blood,

And find yourself in the grave you've dug."

Astrid rolled over again onto her back, fingers twitching in rhythm with the piano chords that rolled like the sea. The singer's voice swelled with each wave, carrying her away.

"Had high hopes but I'm goin' down,

Tried to fly but I'm gonna drown,

Working hard but going 'round,

Open my mouth, can't make a sound."

A hush fell before he whispered the last lines of the refrain:

"This ain't the way to get to the top."

The piano and guitars started again for the chorus and Astrid exhaled through clenched teeth, clutching at the sheet. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she was falling, falling, falling...

With a quick shake of her head, the music cut off and the sudden silence enveloped her. Skin prickling and ears perked, she strained for any noise from downstairs. Nothing.

That couldn't be good. Just because her father hadn't done anything drastic yet didn't mean he wouldn't. Astrid kept her mouth shut and her head down whenever he was home. Even though it hadn't always been like this, she couldn't remember how he used to be.

Her mother's whimpers, like falling leaves, finally broke the stillness. Astrid's chest constricted, and she sat up, pushing the tangle of sweaty sheets aside.

"Don't worry... be alright... doctor's won't...never...Astrid." Fragments of her father's comforting words, just enough to confirm that they'd been talking about her.

Astrid dangled her legs over the side of the bed, clutching her head as dizziness struck. She was so angry it wouldn't be a surprise if her veins burned through her skin.

You'd rather see me die than remove the precious mods! What am I, what is my life to you?

Seventeen was old enough to drive. Old enough to stay home alone, get a job, drop out of school ... but not old enough to get surgery without parental consent. And when your life hung in the balance, a year was too long to wait.

Astrid stood and walked on shaky legs to the window. A sliver of a breeze slipped through the cracks of the old windowsill, heavy with the scent of coming rain. Fumbling with the latch, she managed to open it and leaned out. The rickety fire escape twisted down two of the three stories to the cracked sidewalk, and a rusty metal pipe ran all the way up the side to the roof.

She hesitated, but only for a moment. Grabbing the jacket hung over the back of her chair, she ducked out the window. She climbed up onto the railing, heart pounding as it trembled and wobbled beneath her. Next, she grabbed the metal pipe, thick enough to wrap one hand almost the whole way around, with both hands, planted her feet against the wall, and started climbing.

AstridWhere stories live. Discover now