Trapped

When Alice snuck out for Halloween, she didn't think about what could happen,i guess, now she knows..

 

I sat still, as still as I could, and watched as the blue and black butterfly land on the tiny flower box on the window sill outside. I watched it intensely, longing to be that free. To go where I want, when I want.

“Alice!” a cranky voice broke my blissful silence.

“Mhhm?” I answered softly from the window ledge.

“Shut the window and go to sleep already!”

I groaned and pulled the window closed quietly stopping the soft spring breeze from rustling the pages of my battered journal. I leaned back onto my pillow and began sketching the still butterfly perched on the blooming red pansies. The cloudy glass blocked my view slightly but it was better than nothing. After a couple of minutes, the butterfly fluttered off into the starry nights sky. I sighed and closed my journal, my picture only half complete. I lay down fully onto the old creaky bed and shut my heavy eyes. I slowly began to drift into a daze of pictures and words. Odd shapes began to attack my restless mind, but only one shape stood out to me. The shape of a heart, pulsing and thrumming in the black surroundings. A face filled into the heart. I reached out to touch it, grabbing at it with my outstretched hands, and then it was gone. I woke suddenly in the dark, tangled and messed in the blankets, breathing heavily. My mind muddled, I grabbed the bottle of water off the rickety cabinet beside the bed and took a long slug. I rested against my pillow and began to think back to the life I’d had before…here…

 

The green tufts of grass rose up about my feet. The lush smells of the near by daffodils wafted around my face. The tinkle of laughter; a small sandy haired boy is leaping about in the long grass tossing a blue ball up into the air. I know him as my brother, of six years, Nathan. His red rosy cheeks, his small hands grasping the ball tightly, now looking around worriedly. Just then a red haired lady, slender with freckles, appeared over the glossy hilltop, smiling down on us. I knew her as my mother. The lady who had held my hand through my injections, baked me cookies and scones for my cake sales and who had always bought me above and beyond everything I needed. Holding her hand is my father, Harold, laughing along with Nathan as my mother scoops him into her arms swiftly. I feel free and loved. A tear rolls down my cheek and I attempt to catch it but I come in contact with a fluffy snout I know to be our Labrador, Millie. She playfully nudges me, shaking her bum, waiting for me to run through the grass with her and my family. But I can’t. Time has cemented me to this place. I cannot be free anymore. I cannot see them any more. The shadow of the sun closes in on my face, their bodies drifting off over the hill. A wave from my brother, his little hands raised upwards. And then…It’s raining? I can feel the wet creeping up all over my legs. What’s happing?  I’m sure it didn’t rain that day in the field-

 

 I woke to find the bottle of water I had been holding sloshed all over my legs. The covers soaked thoroughly with it. I groaned and turned over to my left.   To my surprise, Addison, my best friend since I was five, was sitting upright in her bed, flicking through my journal.

“Hey,HEY! Stop it Addison!! That’s Private!” I rushed over to her bed and leaped onto her, grabbing at my worn journal.

“Calm down, Jesus, its just a couple of stupid pictures.” She released the journal from her hands just as I took a frantic grab towards her arms. As she moved them backward, I tumbled over the opposite side of the bed and fell with a thump into the twin bed in front of me. Addison let loose a cackle of laughter. I swore a couple of times before dragging myself off the dusty floor and continuing onto the bathroom, journal in hand. As I was examining my all ready bruising knee, a light tap came to the door.

“Someone in here” I snuffled.

“Alice. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was that important to you. I promise I wont look at it ever again ok?” A slightly worried voice belonging to Addison floated through the door. After knowing Addison for 11 years of my life, I knew the one thing she was good at. Keeping promises.I opened the door slowly. Her eyes were reddish as if from rubbing at them.“I guess.” I mumbled and moseyed on into the room. I glanced at the worn wristwatch on the bedside cabinet. It read 7:06. Greet the day, Al I thought as I grabbed the pen from the cabinet drawer and scratched into the back of the journal one little line. This line signified the 27th day I’d been here in this place. I could still remember the day I was…captured.

The End

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