Submitting

Broken

My heart pounded in my chest so loudly that I could almost hear it thump, louder than the old floorboards underneath my feet. Cold and merciless as I stepped on them. It was funny or rather surprising how I was sweating so profusely even in this biting chill of the night. It's definitely going to be much more cold outside, but that is far more bearable than being trapped in this house even for a second.

I reached the stairs and stopped, trying to listen for the slightest bit of noise in the still air that would give me an indication of my failure at being stealthy. What if they are still awake? What if their sleep is too light that breaks at the slightest bit of commotion? What if all of this is somehow their plan to punish me for my earlier indiscipline?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing was heard as the seconds ticked by into minutes and moments of anxious despair as I waited and waited for them to jump out of the shadows and catch me red handed. But it never happened. A long and dragged out anxious manic state. That was what I was going through until I finally landed my feet on the first step of the stairs and started descending slowly. Hope can be a dangerous thing to rely on, but I couldn't help but let it fester in me further with every step I took. Maybe I will actually succeed.

The hallway downstairs was as dim and empty as the one upstairs. The only difference was the path that it led to. The front door. Locked and shut tight with not the slightest chance of any exit for me through it. No, that's not where I felt the draft of sweet, sweet sting of freezing wind. It was coming from some other place. Like the quietest whisper that anyone would miss unless they yearned for the source very badly.

I closed my eyes and let my senses take over. A slow exhale and then I stopped breathing as well. It shouldn't be lost so soon, not after it teased me so a few hours ago. And true to my wishes, I felt it again. The scent so enticing, a cool breath mixed with the alluring night outside. Barren trees, dry leaves, the brilliantly bright and fresh snow and the sensual moon.

My steps towards the source had to be slower than I wanted to, but in my mind I wanted to run and sprint towards the kitchen where it came from. It confused me though. How was it possible? The windows all around the house were nothing but glass window panes framed in wood. There were no latches or any sort of way to swing or slide them open. So how was this possible?

I was not proven wrong when I reached the kitchen and stood at the doorway. The window still intact and stood still like a wall with no crack visible on its surface. But the wind was still there, swirling and teasing me still, and coming from the very same window. So was this, is this all my imagination? Have I gone completely insane? My drive to escape is stronger than anything indeed, but it must not have been too crazy to push me into such a manic state. Surprising how I still believed in myself.

There had to be some hidden secret here that isn't visible to my naked eyes. And after getting to know Dimitri and Ivan, that possibility seemed to be more true and viable than my previous assumption. I needed to investigate and try before I gave up. A walk so far and effort so much should not be wasted. The possibility of me walking my way back to that caging room was null as well.

A blink later, I was in front of the window as the wind got stronger as well as its chill. It was not hard to detect where it was coming from, but weird indeed. The windowsill. It was wooden and short and slightly misplaced. Like a puzzle piece that was not placed quite right and came off easily when I pulled it out.

Amazed, I had to admire the amount of thought put into hiding such an easy exit point that the window should have originally been. A window that could be easily broken, but an alarm of its own when done so. Thus, all this time it was not an option for me but now, the visible latch left ajar somehow which would let the window slide upwards, was an unexpected gift that I never imagined I would receive anonymously. All of this was just too good to be true, and I didn't want to doubt it one bit as I reached in and slid the window open. The noise of wood scraping against wood felt so new, it shot a nostalgic feeling inside me. The feeling of happiness.

I could almost smile.

The wind was not strong outside, nor was it constant but rather like a respiration as it danced softly every now and then, in a non periodic manner. It mingled and played with my hair very gently, called me towards it and all that I had to do was get on top of the counter, over the sink and escape. Easy.

My feet were not covered, I didn't have any shoes. Not that I had been provided any, and I honestly didn't want to delay any more in search of any as I slid the window down again and climbed into the sink before opening it for my golden escape.

My fingers grabbed the edges at the bottom of the window, and I was about to push it open again, but stopped instantly. Something was not right. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach and at the back of my neck. Like an instinct that nagged and poked. A sixth sense that exists in all when someone else stares for too.

I didn't want to turn my head around and look at the doorway because I knew that I would find someone standing there. The only mystery being who. One that I didn't want to be solved.

"Rosie?"

How did I manage to forget?