Anne sat at her desk with pen in hand, staring blankly out of her window. A tear rolled off her face; it hit the page and its droplet-fragments splashed around the fresh black ink. A small blackbird was swiftly hopping around the lawn; the rain had caused the earth to soften; worms were easy prey.
A hazy drizzle had descended upon the town and Anne felt intoxicated by it. How would she know? How could she receive a signal or sign if she was cloaked in a thick dewy fog?
She sighed and put down her pen on the table. She liked it when the condensation gathered in the corner of the windows. It made her feel warm; a little better than being outside. As awful as she knew it was, to remind herself that there were hundreds, thousands of people out there that had a worse life than she did, made her appreciate her goose-feathered pillows and warm wolly throws so much more.
She had been sat at the window for approximately one hour and twenty two minutes. She had been called down to dinner twice, but had remained in her position, calling some excuse of a complicated equation to quell her nervous mother. She estimated about four more minutes before he started. She couldn't believe the time; the note had said seven thirty. That time had come and gone.
Anne strained her eyes through the thickening foliage, looking for...well she wasn't quite sure. A sign. She humoured herself that to an outsider, this situation would seem extremely comical. She pulled back her long dark tresses; a sign of anxiety.
Suddenly, just behind the back wooden fence which ran around the garden a small light flashed. It was so quick Anne was sure it had been her imagination willing for anything. But a few seconds later, it flashed again. Anne clambered urgently onto her desk, her hands and feet fumbling in refusal to cooperate. She pressed her nose against the glass and focussed.
There was a shadowy figure, who had climbed nimbly over the fence and was crouched by a shrubbery, completely hidden to the untrained eye.
Anne's heart began to thump against her chest; so loud she was sure someone who stood close to her would hear or feel its resonance. She knew what she had to do. She grabbed her coat and pushed some clothes and her stash of money into her grubby old school bag. She turned back to her desk when-
'ANNE!' The boom travelled up from the kitchen and made Anne's bones quake.
'Dinner, now! It's gonna be cold! You've got five seconds or I'm chucking it. Five...'
Anne rolled her eyes emphatically and pushed herself off her chair; forcing her limbs towards the thing that she wanted to escape most. She turned to her desk to close her book when she saw one last flash of light from the garden; a light that flashed and ignited her hope.
It would have to be tonight.