The End of The Beginning

Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I had seen a movie where a man broke out of jail with nothing but a spoon and covered the hole up with a poster. Two problems with that, though, I did not have a poster and it would take so long that I would probably die of hunger. I hope a seven year old was smart enough to know the stranger danger rule. Who am I kidding? Grace had only just been in her second year of school. Who would have taught her? So many thoughts were going through my head that I did not realize a shiny object just laying on the floor. Once I was snapped out of my terrible day dreaming, I realized that the man had left a knife. Now that I looked closer at it, I realized it was a simple kitchen knife. And was that...blood on it? No, nope, it was ketchup. I hope. I really, really hope.

I would use it to kill myself if it were not for Grace. I had to find her. I pushed on the door slightly. It wouldn't budge. I tried again. Still, no luck.

I weighed my options, I could continue trying, or I could start crying. Crying was not an option, though it would make me feel better. I used the knife to try and bring the lock closer to me. I then tried picking the lock. It didn't work. They were not stupid and I was hopeless. I sat down and thought of what Henry and Mrs. Cole did to me. I thought of finding Grace and getting out of here. Adrenaline and fury rushed through my body. With surprising strength I ran towards the door with my arms out and a knife in hand.

I sliced through the chains and the lock fell to the floor with a clang. I slowly opened the door. No alarm, no traps, nothing. I was, so far, free. I silently ran up the stairs still recovering from the adrenaline rush. Fury was still pouring through my veins. I could feel the heat rush up to my face. My hands were clenched into tight little balls of fire. My knuckles were white and my palms were red, dripping with blood.

I continued to run. Past a sleeping guard, past an awake guard, and past dormitories of young boys. I ran faster. Girls had to be soon. They just had to be.

I stopped short. A pink sign saying "Girls, Ages 5-8" hung right in front of me. This was it. I found a purple jacket lying on the floor. It read, "Princess". Oh well, it would have to do. I walked in wearing the jacket over my shoulders and the hood on my head. I thanked my parents for my abnormal shortness. But I did crouch down a little, for good measure. I walked up to Grace and tapped her on the shoulder. It was easy to find her with her golden, curly pigtails. She was not the same, though. She was wearing a grey cardigan with grey corduroys and a black tank top. It took me a moment to recognize her face. I was terrified.