Outside

• Isabel Randall, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2020

My bare feet tread over the splintering wood. The candle in my hand casts unnerving shadows in the hallway. I walk over to the door. I place my blue hand on its surface. I close my eyes and press the side of my head to the door, listening. Muffled speaking filters through and I startle, walking back into the staircase. I hit my head against the balustrade and fall to the ground. I scramble to stand up again but my dress is caught on a split floor board. I tug and pull at my dress, yanking at the blue fabric. My efforts come to a halt when a person comes down the stairs. Their steps indicate that their leg was injured. The sound of limping stops as they reach the bottom of the stairwell. The person turns their head to look in my direction. Cold, blue eyes stare into mine. I’ve been found. I resume yanking at my dress trying to run from the person. The dress finally rips and I propel myself down the hall, yearning to get away from the figure with the cold eyes.
I maneuver myself through the confusing hallways, softening my footsteps with each I take. I find the door to the back garden. I grasp the knob and twist it, forcing it to unlock. I hear limping close behind me. I still my breath and force myself to be invisible against the wall. The limping stops and out of the corner of my eye I see the person. The cold, blue eyes boring into mine. He limps past me, well aware of my existence, and fishes a key from his breast pocket. The person unlocks the door and pushes it open for me to see the outside. Green grass and flowers confront me with colour. Other buildings down the mountain are filled with happiness and light. And from afar, sunlight shimmers and sparkles on the top of the sea, taunting me. I am drawn back to my senses when the person steps in front of me.
“Don’t tell anyone that we escaped from here,” The figure pushes me out the door and locks it behind him.
“My name is Garcia Darleon,” He puts out his hand for me to shake. Instead of taking it I embrace him in a hug. Even though I don’t know him, he saved my life. He didn’t live in that hellhole like myself and so many others. He’s one of the lucky ones. I let go and stare into his eyes. They softened when outside.
“My name is Maryn. It’s just Maryn. The people inside stripped me of my heritage so I didn’t know who I was, or if I wanted to escape I wouldn’t have anyone to help me,” I turn around to take in my surroundings. Feeling the fresh sea breeze on my face.
“Well now you’re with me,” Garcia says, coming to stand next to me. “And both of us, finally, will be free,”.