Lea-rough drafts

Part 1

In an ancient stone palace off the coast of Japan, a teenage boy lays in a large
canopy bed waiting, barely breathing, expecting to hear him arrive home any moment. A
small fabric bag of food and valuables hides under his pillow. He holds the bag's handle
more tightly, his survival will depend on it's contents.
Down a dark hallway, heavy footfalls on the stone tile floor approach his door. A
long pause in the steps sends panic into the boy's heart. The door slowly creaks open
casting pale light on his relaxed face and closed eyes. The man standing in the doorway
listens calculating if the boy is really asleep. The heavy wood door closes and he walks
away down the hall toward the study.
The boy exhales silently. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until that
moment. He lies there listening to the darkness; he must be sure. A small mouse squeaks
in the dark and shuffles against the brick wall of his room. He buries himself deeper
under the blanket as if the thin piece can protect him from impending doom.
He waits what feels like hours. Finally, the teen pulls back the cover and his bare
feet silently touch the stone floor. Sliding off the edge of the bed, he pulls his bag of
personal treasures from beneath his pillow. Every moment is measured to make no
sound. One step, two steps, slowly across the room, slower he turns the handle on the
door.
It clicks, but the door itself opens soundlessly. Holding his breath he shimmies
through the opening, not chancing to open it any further than absolutely necessary. He
only releases the knob once he has pulled it completely shut.
He's blinded temporarily by the lanterns and he cannot see beyond the glare. In
between each set of lights he pauses to listen again. No one is moving, he hears nothing.
When the passage ends in the large dining room he waits for his eyes to adjust again.
Past the over sized solid wood table, through the door way to the throne room. He
avoids the grand entrance double wooden doors. Designed to create a spectacular
approach to the King's position, the heavy barriers cause mind numbing noise as they
swing open and slam together closed.
Finally, he reaches a small servants walkway. The cool air blows against his cheek
as he faces the city outside. A few feet away stands freedom, but also the heaviest
burden he can imagine. It would be very easy to return to his bed and ignore what is
happening. He will have every luxury he desires, only if he stays, if he gives in, if he
follows the plan.
It's better to walk away he tells himself. He must find her and protect her, and if
possible himself. Just a few more feet, one step, one step more. The cold water shocks
him as it brushes his toes. Deeper he walks carefully avoiding any splashes. A stifled
quick intake of breath echoes like a scream in his ears when the cold hits his midsection.
A look over his shoulder and he releases all his last regrets. All he's ever known exists in
these walls, but with a final deep breath he swims out into the ocean anyway. A large
fishing boat sleepily anchored off the shore has no idea a young merman swims below
them.