Obscurity

• Angelina Verkman, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2020

The feeling of death isn’t a stranger to me. I’ve been in this position before. It’s quiet, too quiet. I have left the monstrosity called home. I’ve been in this institute for 6 years, 6 months, and 6 hours. Perfect wouldn’t you say? I don’t know what they do to us down here… they just… dismantle our sanity. They want answers they’re not gonna find, because they don’t exist. I’m not the only girl here… there are others too, all cornered like animals. But I can’t help them. No one can. It’s every man for themself.

Getting out of your cell is a nightmare. It involves lies, lures, and love. It’s a complicated system of events where you pray you’ll have the right outcome. Failure, involves death. I should know… I’ve been close. It’s not unusual for those courageous enough to try and escape. To take the chance. The guards here are lowlifes, here for the money, for their own pleasures. I lurch along the halls, using the walls as my support. Shivers jolt though my body at the cold. They show no sympathy. My eyes can barely stay open… they broke me good. I must hurry, it’s only a matter of time before— I’m interrupted by the screams of alarms. Blinded by their bloodied glow. I stagger my way through the halls. Attempting to run, my legs fail me. I’m lifting my dead weight as I hear the shouts of guards.

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! I whisper a curse, I will not allow this to be my fate. I lift myself up as I stumble into a small run. Their boots start the beat of the drums, the beat of my heart. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Time is ceasing. I yelp at the pain. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Screw it. I must endure it. My feet stride with speed. Faster. Wind spikes my skin. I run… forward. I don’t know where I am, but I don’t stop. Right. Left. Left. Right. Stop. It’s a dead end. I fall in defeat.

Silence.

Click!

I turn my head. Towering over my helpless body is a single guard. Pistol loaded, take my fate. His angered eyes lock on mine. He doesn’t move, nor do I. His veins bulge. He’s tightening his grip on the gun. I feel sick. My eyes are heavy. Waters of weak fill my eyes. I can barely breathe. He takes a step forward. I’m loosing vision. Nausea and exhaustion aren’t a pleasant experience. I hear the faded stomps deceasing. Before I fade… I take one last look at my executor’s eyes. His alluring blue eyes. In this darkened dead end of hell, I stare at the last pair of stars in a night’s sky…

Black.

Cold.

Numbingly cold.

I awake in a abandoned ally, fragile. Goosebumps surge my skin. I struggle myself up against a wall. Why he didn’t shoot? I’ll never know. I look up. Diamonds in the sky. I cry in relief. I’m… free.