• Chapter Two



    I sighed, bored out of my mind, and itching to get back to writing up my escape plans. I sat in my desk, chin resting in my hand, gazing out the window at the peaceful, glittering scene outside. It was March, and the sun was shining and the snow was melting. A line of shimmering icicles hung from the top of the window outside, dripping in the early spring heat. Drip... drip... drip. A few spring birds had returned their songs to the land. Soon the leaves would start budding and the flowers blooming.

    It was almost time. I could feel it.

    I heard someone clear their throat and snapped my attention back to class. Mr. Beckitt stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, foot tapping, brown eyes peering at me over square glasses perched on his thin nose. The room was quiet, as if everyone were waiting for something. Then I realized they were waiting for me. "I'm sorry, what?"

    Mr. Beckitt pointed to the blackboard with his meter stick. "How do you solve this equation?" he asked, scowling.

    I stared at the question on the board, completely lost for words. It was a long equation, with brackets, exponents, multiplication, division, subtraction, square roots, pi's, and letters. It was all a jumbled mess as far as I was concerned. My face grew hot. All I could do was stare down at my desk and shake my head helplessly. I dared to glance back up at Mr. Beckitt. His brow was furrowed in a frown and his lips pressed together in a thin, disapproving line.

    "Care to let the class know what's so very captivating out there?" He spread his arms to the class in front of him.

    I looked back down at my desk and shook my head again. I felt my cheeks flush even hotter and wondered how bright a shade of red my face was becoming. The class was deathly quiet. I shifted my bottom uncomfortably in my hard seat.

    "Move to this desk please, Ashta."

    I looked up at the empty desk he gestured to, across the room and the farthest from the window. I sighed, stood up, scooped my books into my arms, and made my way across the front of the room. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I crossed the room, burning dozens of little holes in my skin. As soon as I plunked myself down in my new seat, class resumed. The students' attention returned to Mr. Beckitt and his equation, and I sunk down in my chair, wishing I could be anywhere but here.


    ~*~



    I ran my hand along the smooth cement wall as I walked slowly along. I stopped and looked up at the top, my palm pressed on the surface and my fingers spread. "We could chip out little hand and footholds and climb over," I mused.

    "They would be seen before they're done," Claire replied from behind me. "Besides, what are you going to do once you get up there? It's not like you can jump down the other side."

    "Right," I sighed. My mood plummeted. What am I going to do? I quickly forced myself to brighten up again. Stay positive, Ashta, or you'll never get out of here, I thought. "Well then, we'll just have to scout it out before we really go. When we find a way up that is."

    Claire had nothing to say, but I thought I heard a quiet, you're-so-hopeless sigh from her direction.

    We continued along the base of the wall, I in front and Claire moping along behind me. The gate came in sight yet again. I'd walked around the inside of that ridiculous wall so many times this winter I was familiar with every little crack and chip in the surface. I was also all too familiar with all the ways I couldn't get out. It was beginning to discourage me. I sighed very quietly to myself and turned to face my friend, putting a smile on my face. "Cheer up, Claire," I told her cheerily. "This could be fun if you'd let it. Like a scavenger hunt!"

    Claire sent me a smoldering look. "How can I," she replied drily, "when my best friend seems intent on killing herself, for if she doesn't topple off the wall she'll certainly die of air poisoning of some sort, or at least be eaten by some wild animal, or if they come looking for you and decide to shoot you have you thought of that?" She was almost yelling by the end of it.

    I put a finger to my lips, glancing at the gate's guards. "Quiet down, they'll hear you."

    "I hope they do," she said, but in spite of her words she lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "It was so much better before you started obsessing over this!"

    I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. My mind was blank. I couldn't think of anything to say. "I'm not obsessed," I grumbled lamely.

    "It's all you'll ever talk about! ‘Let's climb over this, squeeze through that!' It's always we and us, but you never bothered to ask me if I wanted to come, did you?" When I didn't answer she repeated forcefully, "Did you?"

    I flinched and looked down, shook my head shamefully. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears burning behind my eyelids not to fall. Claire was right, and because of that I had nothing to say in my defense. I had never asked her, never about anything. I'd always assumed she would just follow me out, that she shared my views. I'd assumed she longed for a freedom we didn't have, just like I did. I'd always assumed, instead of seeing the obvious signs she'd given me. Bitter words here, silence there, exasperated sighs over there. "I..."

    "What's so bad about here that you have to be there?" Claire asked, her voice loud again. I didn't bother to quiet her down this time. "Why can't you just be happy with what you have?"

    Anger suddenly flared up inside me. I snapped my head up to return her flaming glare. "Because nothing I have is good enough," I hissed back at her. "Because everything I have is a lie."

    Claire got an injured look in her eyes. "So you're saying we are a lie?" she whispered. "All those years we spent together. all the secrets we told each other, every time we laughed or cried or shared our pain together? You're saying all that was a lie? You're saying our entire friendship is a lie?"

    All feeling drained from me. I reached out to take her arm in my fingers. "No, no, Claire, that's not what I meant."

    Claire wrenched her arm away from my hand. She turned her face away.

    "Claire, please!" I pleaded, my voice cracking, my throat tightening with impending sobs. "Please, I'm sorry!" The tears started running down my face. I began to panic. Claire was my closest friend. She was the only one I could really talk to, the only one I could tell my secrets to, spill my feelings to. If I lost Claire, I didn't know what I would do. I couldn't lose Claire!

    She turned to face me, her face void of any emotion. "The grass isn't always greener on the other side, Ashta," she said flatly. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

    With that she turned and walked away, leaving me broken and shattered in the snow.

    I hung my head. "I'm sorry," I whispered to no one in particular. "I'm sorry."


    ~*~



    I stood there in the snow for some time, crying and feeling sorry for myself. The sun kept on shining cheerily, and, for some odd reason I couldn't explain, that made me furious. I glared up at the sky and spread my arms, tears running down my cheeks. "Why don't you just cloud over, huh?" I screamed. "Why don't you snow on me, or rain on me, or something! Just stop looking so darn happy!" I kicked at the snow lying on the ground around me, cursing and sobbing, and I knew I looked like a four year old, and I knew the guards could see me, and probably some other kids too, but I didn't care, I just didn't care. I hated everything and everything hated me, most of all, myself. I was such an inconsiderate jerk. I got so absorbed in what I wanted, I refused to see what others wanted. I expected them all to come along without question. Because you're always right, a bitter, mocking voice told me. You're always right and everyone else is wrong. I sank down to my knees, not caring about the cold snow soaking through my jeans or the salty nasal fluid dripping over my lips. I covered my face with my hands, my back and shoulders shaking with my sobs.

    I didn't even hear footsteps in the snow before I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I jumped in surprise and uncovered my face to see a young man, not much older than myself, crouching beside me. His hair was brown and a little shaggy, his eyes a milky brown and shining, his nose a little wide, and he had a little cleft in his chin that seemed out of place with the rest of his features.

    He was the guard Claire and I had seen last Fall.

    I stared at him in shock.

    "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned and maybe a little alarmed.

    "Um..." I looked down, sniffed, and wiped my sleeve across my nose. My cheeks grew a little warm. I tried to smile, though I was sure I failed miserably. "I'm fine," I lied, not meeting his eyes.

    "You don't look fine," he replied with a slight smile.

    "It's just-" I began, then thought better of it. There was no way I was going to pour all my thought out to some stranger. "Never mind, it's fine. It'll all turn out. Eventually."

    He didn't push it, and I was glad. "If there's anything I can do," he said, "Let me know."

    I nodded. "Thank you," I said, self-consciously wiping my nose on my sleeve again.

    He stood and held out his hand to help me up. I reached up and took his wrist, pulling myself off the ground. I brushed the snow off my pants.

    "Thanks," I said again, and he nodded. I turned and started walking back to the building.

    "I'm Noah," I heard him call out from behind me. I turned around. He was standing in the same spot, hands shoved in his pants pockets.

    I looked at him for a bit, then said, "Ashta."

    He grinned and waved. "I'll see you around then, Ash."

    I smiled back, a real one this time, and said, "Yeah." I followed Claire's footprints back home.


    ~*~



    Claire wasn't in the room when I opened the door and walked in. I sighed as I took off my shoes and pulled off my coat, throwing it over the back of the chair sitting useless in the corner. I walked over to my dresser and stood watching myself in the mirror. My black eyeliner was badly smeared, my mascara dripping below my eyes from the tears. My hair was a tangled mess, from my recent tantrum I supposed. I went to the bathroom sink, picked up a wet face cloth, and rubbed my smeared make-up from around my eyes, then wiped the rest of my face. I went back to my dresser, brushed my hair and tied it back, and reapplied my eyeliner and mascara. A twinge of embarrassment made my cheeks flush. The boy, Noah, he'd seen me as a mess, a complete and utter mess. What did he think of me? He hadn't seemed very bothered by it but...

    Then a wave of guilt caused my stomach to do a flip. "What am I doing?" I asked myself out loud. I'd just lost my best friend, and here I was obsessing over some random boy! How could I be so selfish? I groaned. I was frustrated with myself. I didn't want to think about all my faults anymore. They were only making me feel worse.

    I started picking things up off the floor. Then I went into the kitchen and cleaned that up. Then the bathroom, then I vacuumed the floors, then dusted the tables, cleaned the mirrors, washed the windows, and scrubbed the fingerprints. Anything to keep my mind off the day. By the time I was finished, the whole place gleaming, it was quarter after five. Claire still wasn't here. Where was she? It was almost curfew. She was always back well before curfew. What if something happened? What if she was lying unconscious on the floor somewhere? I shakily started supper. I made Claire's favorite, macaroni and cheese. It was done by quarter to six, and Claire still wasn't back yet.

    I sat at the small table by the kitchen window. Our dorm was at the end, at the corner of the building, on the third floor, so we had two views rather than just one. The large window on the main room faced North, and the smaller kitchen window faced East, towards the gate. The grounds were too large to allow me to see the gate, but I wondered briefly if Noah was on duty tonight. I frowned and took an angry bite of my macaroni, disgusted with myself. I should be worrying about Claire, not daydreaming about a stranger.

    Just then I heard the door open and close, the scuffle of someone removing their shoes, and the rattle of the metal hangers in the closet. A wave of relief washed over me.

    Claire came into the kitchen, acknowledging me only by glancing in my direction for barely a second. She grabbed a bowl out of the cupboard, spooned some macaroni out of the pot, and turned to leave the room.

    "Claire," I said quietly. "Can you please forgive me?"

    Her steps didn't even falter as she walked out.

    I sighed and placed my chin in my hand, gazing out the window at the gathering darkness, my appetite suddenly diminished. Eventually I stood and tucked my uneaten dinner into the fridge for later. I started cleaning up the dinner dishes, pouring the leftovers into a container to go in the fridge, filling up the sink with soapy water, and finally washing out the silver metal pot and various measuring cups. Just as I finished tucking the last dish into its cupboard, I heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock and the door opening. I wandered into the other room while the woman made her way to Claire sitting on the bed. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen to wait for her. Once she was finished with her, she came across to me, pulling a fresh needle out of her coat pocket. I was watching her draw closer, but somehow I wasn't really seeing her. She was just a dark shape moving towards me.

    Her hand moved down to my arm. I didn't stop her. I was too deep in my self-pity.

    Then, just as she inserted the needle in my vein, I realized something.

    The door was open.

    My vision seemed to narrow, so that the only things in the world were me and that open door.

    Without thinking, I lifted my arms, grabbed the woman by her shoulders, and shoved her into her partner. It all happened so quickly they had no time to react, and as they scrambled up off the floor I was already sprinting out the door. I ran down the hallway, to the door that led to the stairs. I turned the knob, praying it was open. Yes! The door swung out and I stepped through, bolting down the stairs as fast as I could. As I opened the door to the first floor -- apparently there was no need to lock any of them when everyone was safely tucked away in their rooms -- I heard quick footsteps coming down the stairs and panicked shouts from the women.

    I paused to look up and saw one of them bend over the rail. "There she is!"

    The last thing I heard before sprinting out the door was the other woman frantically yelling into the radio, probably to security.

    The school hallways were dark and empty. My footsteps seemed far too loud and my breathing too ragged as I made my way through the lonely corridors.

    I didn't know why I was running, or where I was going.

    One thought that actually made sense managed to make itself heard over the senseless clamor in my brain. The only place to go was out, and I needed shoes.

    I gripped the wall with my fingertips as I skidded around a corner and sped down another hallway, skidding to a stop at my locker. I fumbled with the lock, whispering, "Come on, come on, come on!" desperately to myself. Finally the lock clicked open and I yanked it off and dropped it on the floor. I knelt down, frantically pulling everything out and dumping it all beside me until I got to my gym shoes. As I pulled the first one on, I heard the heavy footfalls and commanding shouts of the security guards around the corner. I stood up, yanking my last shoe onto my foot as I attempted to hop down the hallway. It finally slipped on and as I put my foot down I lost my balance, my shoulder banging into the metal lockers. I cringed as the resounding clang echoed through the school. There was a long second of silence, then someone shouted, "It came from there!" I didn't stop to look back; I just ran. Again, I could hear their footsteps behind me. Or was that my heartbeat crashing through my ears? Either way, I had to get out of here, away from them. I couldn't run forever. Already I could feel myself beginning to slow, despite the tons of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

    I lowered my head and forced my legs to pump faster. Turning right down another hallway, I breathed a sigh of relief. One of the back doors stood in front of me. A door to the outside.

    I put on another burst of speed. I just had to get to the end of this hallway and I was free.

    I extended my arms to the latch as I approached it...

    And slammed right into it. It didn't open. I staggered back with the impact, my forearms pounding where they'd smashed into the door.

    I fought down panic. I tried again, pushing against the door. It was locked tight.

    I cursed to myself. I knew it couldn't be that easy.

    I turned around to the sounds of more shouts and running boots on the polished floor. The guards had rounded the corner. They were coming at me, fast, and I was cornered.

    Desperately, I looked around me, searching for a way to escape. There. Right beside me, a door labeled, "Custodian". It was my last hope. A rather feeble hope, but a hope just the same.

    I reached out for the knob. "Please be unlocked, please!" It was. The door swung open and I slipped inside.

    The room was dark. I could make out stacks of boxes in the corners, various items on the shelves, and huge stacks of toilet paper against the walls. I leaned against the wooden door, catching my breath, and fumbled with the lock. It twisted and clicked into place. I leaned my head back against the door. I knew I wasn't safe yet, but it was so quiet in here, so peaceful. I could almost pretend nothing was happening...

    Then there was a loud bang and the door jerked violently against my back.

    My eyes flew open and I searched for an escape in the darkness. There was absolutely nowhere to hide. My breath grew loud and deep, panicky. I fought down the wave of hopelessness threatening to overwhelm me.

    My gaze settled on a small window about nine feet up, near the ceiling. Then I looked down at a pile of boxes in the corner.

    The guards slammed into the door again. They would be inside soon.

    Reluctantly moving away from the door, I ran for the boxes. I pulled a box away from the pile and the rest tumbled down. I yelped and leaped out of the way. I grabbed another box and dragged it under the window. I didn't know what was in it, but it was heavy. There was no way I would be able to stack these enough to climb to the window.

    I went to another pile of boxes and tested the weight of the nearest one. Still heavy, but lift able. I pulled it to the window and lifted it onto the other. One more and I should be able to reach the window.

    The door slammed again. I heard the wood crack in protest. I didn't have much time.

    I ran back to the boxes and dragged another box across to the window. Grunting with the effort, I hoisted it on top of the other two.

    Another slam; another crack.

    I climbed up the boxes.

    Slam; crack.

    The boxes didn't seem very stable. Though there were only three, they were all different sizes and weren't stacked very carefully. I stuck out my arms for balance as the pile teetered.

    They slammed into the door again. It sounded like they were getting desperate out there. That, or very, very angry.

    I looked up at the window. It was long, but it was only about a foot tall, maybe a little more. I hoped I would fit through.

    I bent my knees and jumped for the window, pushing off with as much strength as I could muster. I grabbed for the ledge, but I was a few inches short, and I fell back down to the boxes. They threatened to topple when my weight crashed down on them.

    There was another powerful bang at the door, and I heard shouts on the other side. The door wasn't going to hold out for much longer. I was surprised it had lasted until now.

    I turned back to the wall and leapt for the window again.

    There was the sound of splintering wood behind me and the shouts grew significantly louder.

    They were in.

    And I wasn't out yet.