Escape (chapter one)

    There was just something about the way the branch tapped against the glass window next to me—there was just something about the way the wind howled just outside the glass window—there was just something about the way the lightning flashed just outside the glass window—there was just something about the way the rain pelleted against the glass window—that made me want to scream. So I did.

    Just as I felt my voice start to fade, the door to the mysterious room that I was in opened. 

    “Gertrude! Will you quiet down? Please?” Phew. It was not a ghost. It was just my twin sister, Amelia.

    “Amelia!” I exclaimed. “You scared me!”

    “Na-ah!” Amelia protested. “It couldn’t have been me; you were screaming your head off before I came in here to quiet you down!”

    “Why were you coming in here to quiet me down? It’s the middle of the night! You should be asleep,” I retorted.

    “Gertrude, it’s time.” 

    I gulped, but I knew my sister was right.

    I nodded and threw off the covers. 

    I wanted to say it was too cold to get out of bed. I wanted to say it was too dark outside to leave. I wanted to say I didn’t want to leave the orphanage like Amelia and I had planned, but I knew that would be a lie because we both were tired of living like we didn’t have any parents when we did. We were told they couldn’t take care of us anymore, but we were determined to find them.

    I zipped up my jacket and laced up my sneakers.

    “Do you have the backpack?” I inquired of my sister. 

    We had packed everything we would need to break out just before bed. Amelia grabbed a couple loaves of bread, a hunk of cheese, a big back of Cheetos—which I chided her for because we didn’t need them(I was secretly glad)—some personal milk cartons, and some bottles of water. I had stashed in there some extra clothes, two blankets, and both of our pillows.

    We were ready.

    Putting a finger to her lips, my red-headed, brown-eyed, be-freckled sister creaked open the door.

    We both winced at the sound it made. Oh, how I hoped no one heard it!

    I whispered once we had made our way silently into the hallway, “I wish it weren’t raining so hard. You know how I dislike getting wet. Not to mention the lightning and thunder.” I shuddered.

    Amelia scowled at me. “Don’t be so negative,” she chided. “I’m glad of the storm because it’ll wash away our scent if anyone comes looking for us, which they will.”

    I hung my head, my short, choppy, brown hair slipping out from behind my ear. I felt so guilty.

    Amelia always made me feel bad about myself. I don’t know why I always listened to her. Well, I guess most of the time, she’s right. 

    I shook it off. No sense in getting mad with my only travel buddy!

    “Amelia, how close are we to the exit?” I asked my fifteen year old sister.

    For once, Amelia looked unsure. “I, I, I don’t know. I can’t see a thing, so I don’t know where we are.”

    Now, I gave the advice. “Let’s just keep going. Maybe we’ll come to the door.”

    I didn’t have much faith we would come to the door, but I did have hope.

    After roaming the halls quietly and cautiously, Amelia and I ran into a wall.

    “Ow!” I yelped, rubbing my head.

    “Shush!” Amelia warned in a harsh, hushed tone.

    I moved my hands across the surface. There were words on it!

    I gasped. “Amelia, this must be the room next to Mr. MacCroix’s office. It’s the only room that has a plaque with words; all the other rooms just have pictures.”

    “Oh, that’s right! Good eye—I mean finger? Oh, never mind. Just good job.”

    I smiled.

    “The door should be close; let’s walk on,” Amelia stated. 

    As I ran my hand against the wall to maintain an upright position, my fingers hit something: a lever.

    “Amelia, I have found a lever. What should we do? I don’t remember there ever being a lever here.”

    “Gertrude, stop joking with me.”

    “I’m not joking!” I insisted.

    “Yes, you are, and you know it, Gertrude!”

    “Fine! I’ll prove it!”

    Out of anger, I yanked on the lever.

    All of the sudden, the ground shifted under us, and I felt my feet come out from under me!

    Amelia must have been sliding down too, for I heard her scream, “GERTRUDE! YOU WEREN’T JOKING!!!”

    Smugly, I thought, “Told you so!” Despite this, I didn’t say it. Instead, I shrieked.

    So much for being quiet!

    Abruptly, the sliding ended, and I landed hard on the ground.

    I groaned. 

    Suddenly, I bolted upright. “Amelia? Are you here? Hello?”

    There was no answer.

    I shuddered. It was cold down here. And I heard a creaking sound. And I might have been alone.

    “Oh, Amelia, if you’re playing a prank on me, it isn’t funny!”

    I should have known she wasn’t playing any tricks on me; she never did. Being the older one—only by five minutes, but still—she always looked out for me and didn’t do mean things even if and when I did.

    The reality of what had just transpired hit me.

    What would Mr. McCroix say when he found out we had escaped? What would Amelia say when I found her? Would she nail me for pulling on the lever? Would she not let me come along with her to escape? What if—no, I didn’t want to even think about that. I thought about it anyway. What if Mr. McCroix didn’t realize Amelia and I had escaped? What if I didn’t find Amelia? What if I was on my own? For now...or for good? What if—?

    I chastised myself for being too jittery. For delving into the what-if pit. For not keeping Amelia in my sight the whole time. For everything.

    I hugged my knees and buried my head into my forearms and cried. Would I ever see my sister again? Would we ever have the chance to escape together?

    There were so many questions and very few answers.

    At that moment, the sights and sounds I saw and heard from my window seemed to soothe me. That’s just how horrible everything was! How I wished I had known about the lever and that Amelia and I could redo our escape...starting from me looking out the window at midnight!