were determined to keep us here. On initiation day, they said NEVER. There has never been a successful escape, and they're sure there never will be.
The chilly air cut through my thin jacket and the icy pine needles slapped my face as I ran past. Pure adrenaline and fear were the only things that kept me going as I stumbled blindly through the dark, moonlit forest.
The fat trees and low vines were not making for and easy escape. And the top layer of soil had already frozen over. Icy vines and dark foliage jumped out of the shadows to trip me, and my leg protested with sharp pain every time I put weight on it.
I stopped for a second to assess the damage to my leg, and I heard voices. Voices and footsteps. Every few seconds, a flashlight beam would sweep through the forest. The voices seemed to get louder every second, and I could also hear barking. Damn. They had the dogs.
Knowing i had no chance of escape on foot, I Looked around for low branches, maybe one low enough for me to reach. I reached up for one, but was too short. After a few tries, fails, and falls, i realized that jumping didn't work either, and reopened the gash in my leg. With the barking getting louder every second, and the lights brighter, I needed to find a place to hide.
There was a thicket of low bushes nearby that seemed to be a good place to hide. I limped over there, blood pouring out on my leg, and wedged myself in the middle of them. The voices got close enough that I could hear them, but I didn't want to listen. Looking at the marks on my hands, arms and legs, I wondered where the next scar they gave me would go, if I got caught.
The scars were a form of punishment, yes they hurt, and yes they put you to shame. But the worst thing was they branded you. So if you ever got "lost" they were sure to put out a notice and have you returned to the government. This was my third break this month,eleventh time this year. Every escape so far had failed, and every time I was caught I got a new scar. They
I brushed my fingers absently over the scars, looking up at the pale moon and icy clouds that hung below it. I wondered if this would be the last time I ever saw it, or the first time I ever slept under it. I smiled at the thought. One night of freedom. But the thought -and smile- quickly fell away as the voices got dangerously close, and i could almost hear the dogs sniffing out the trail of my blood. I counted the seconds, icicles hanging in the air, by breath froze in my throat. A snarl, dangerously close, and angry voices.
Blood poured out of the gash, making me dizzy and sick. I stepped out on the bushes and into a blinding white light. Blurred voices spun around me, and everything seemed to dance for a moment. I was engulfed in a bright white light, and then swallowed by complete blackness.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 21.04.2012
Alle Rechte vorbehalten