Wrong Place

Oops

As quietly as was humanly possible, I unlatched the window and silently pushed it open. A soft squeak sounded as it neared the top of the track and I froze. Freezing night air rushed into the room, creating a soft breeze that rustled the papers on the desk against the far wall. The lump on the bed next to me groaned a little and pulled the covers up further, but didn't wake. Carefully, I popped the latches on the screen and slid it to the ground outside, grateful for the rain earlier that day. With my heart in my throat, I put one leg then the other through the open window, making sure that the messenger bag resting against my hip didn't catch on anything. When I was out, I breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone had heard me I would be in deep trouble, especially if they had searched the bag I was carrying. I turned back to the window to close it and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw the pale face looking back at me.

"Sophie?" Elle sounded puzzled "What are you doing."

"Leaving." I replied "I'm not going to let her control me anymore."

Elle sighed softly "We've talked about this. You'll never make it on your own."

"I disagree." I argued, refusing to let her talk me out of it again "I'm old enough to get a job now and I've saved up some money already."

"You mean stole." Elle huffed, crossing her arms

I raise my hands in a gesture of surrender "So I didn't earn it in the conventional way, but I still worked hard for everything I have." It had taken me weeks of practice and planning to get good enough at pickpocketing and I didn't appreciate her insinuation that I had taken the easy route. Several times the target had caught me at it and called the police, and once I had spent the night in jail due to sloppiness.

"If you want to go, I won't stop you, but don't expect me to lie for you." Elle turned away from me "I don't think I'll ever understand why you want to leave so badly. Here you have a steady supply of food and a roof over your head. All mom asks in return is that you follow a few simple rules." She shook her head. Of course she wouldn't understand. She was never one to rebel in any way shape or form. Elle meekly followed the orders of our 'mom' no matter how ridiculous or unfair they were and as a result had become the favorite. Of course, this didn't completely exclude her from the beatings with a belt or the forced starvation as a punishment, but her submissive nature had shielded her from the worst of it. How often had she told me to keep my head down and my mouth shut? That I was better off doing as I was told, to weather the storm until I was eighteen? Maybe it would have been better if I had been more cooperative, but it just isn't in my nature to tolerate bullying.

"You know I've never been good at following the rules." I said, "I'm better off on my own." Without a word, she got back in bed and rolled over so she was facing away from me. "Take care of yourself Elle." I shut the window and snapped the screen back in place.

As I walked away from the prison I had called home for so long, I tried to think of what to do next. The sky was already lightening in the east, hinting that the sun would soon be on the rise. The streets were quiet, with no cars out at this time of morning on a Sunday. I began to head in the general direction of school, the only place I was sure I wanted to be close too. I planned to finish out my high school career here since I was already registered and everything, then apply to get scholarships to a college somewhere in the north like Montreal. I had taken French classes for the past three years and felt like I could get by in the French speaking parts of Canada. Besides, my teacher says the best way to learn a language is to go to a place where your forced to speak it every day.

By the time I reached the part of the city my school was in, the sun was already halfway to its apex. It seemed to smile down at me from its place in the cloudless blue sky, warming my shoulders and warding off the slight chill in the air that still lingered. The streets were beginning to fill up with cars and sidewalks were becoming more and more heavily trafficked. As I navigated around my fellow pedestrians, I contemplated whether a crowded sidewalk would be an advantage or disadvantage. On the one hand, I was far less likely to be spotted by the police officers, who would no doubt have gotten a call from my foster mother by now, but on the other a random citizen might see recognize me from the APB most likely circulating the in news by now and call the police. I had just made the decision to stay in the crowd when the sirens began to wail behind me, and I knew I was in trouble. If they caught me this time, with all the stolen cash in my bag, they would put me back into the juvenile home for sure. I remembered the last time I'd been locked up in there and shuddered. I would do anything to avoid going back there, even run from the police if I had to.