To Escape and To Live.
Silence and darkness cradles the room like a mother’s arms. The bare, cold wall lightly glowed gray with the casting of moonlight that shown through the glass, with shadows of the bars that guarded the window sill. The cold, mechanical door remained closed, like the sealed off entrance of a crypt. The bed he laid in was stiff, but not cold as he body heat has created an imprint on the thin mattress. The moonlight made his white flesh glow, as he only had the orange pants of his uniform on. He pushed his raven black hair away from his ears; his hair proved to be naturally bouncy during his three year stint in the prison he calls home. His hard brown eyes scanned down to his bare chest; beads of sweat glistened on him, making the ink of his tattoo shiny. His chest, once virgin, now is forever scared with the claws of a bear, ripping at his flesh. It was only two weeks old, and made him grin at his own handiwork.
His ears pricked up as he heard the noise he had anticipated all night for. The soft footsteps of a certain guard, as rhythmic as the goose-stepping SS, met his wishing ears. By the position of the moon he knew it’s been an hour after lights out, most of the prisoners are fast asleep, the others are plotting a failed version of his own plan: To escape. The keyhole gave way to a key, and the solid door that has held him in this room slowly crept open. A new light shone through, the artificial light of the hallway. The man on the bed rose up, getting to his feet before the silhouette of the guard came crashing into view.
“It’s time,” the guard’s words were cold and soft. The guard stepped into the small room, the scent of jasmine followed, enticing the nostrils of the prisoner.
“About time, I was beginning to think time was wasting me.”
“Never mind, my sweet nocturnal princess,” the prisoner stepped closer to the guard and kissed her on the lips, her soft lips parting in ecstasy. He pulled away, “Let’s go.”
The fake guard pulled a heavy blanket over the man and they crept out of the cell together. As the two strolled side by side, the shrill sound of the alarm rang throughout the prison. Their plan for escape was not the only plan to be tested tonight.
Her room was aglow with the late morning sunlight. She tossed the soft blue blanket off of her, causing the bed to be a mess. She sat up and scanned the room, a smile firmly on her face. She ignored the egg white walls lined with pictures of her family and friends; the posters of Usher, Colt Ford and Eminem that accompanied it. She didn’t bother looking across the room to see her reflection in the vanity, or ahead of her to see if she accidently left the webcam on her computer open again. Her eyes were set down, her hands gently rubbing her bulging, pregnant belly. She was once obsessed with remaining skinny, to stay at 125 the most, but now she embraced that she was with child, with the lovechild of her fiancée.
Still holding her smile, Rebecca rose to her feet, giggling inwardly that she could no longer see her toes. She missed when she could bend over and paint them any color she wanted, but she has been more focused on her fingernails now that she was in the middle of the second trimester. Rebecca looked over at the mirror in the vanity: She ignored the sports bra and basketball short sleepwear and looked over her skin. A caramel completion, being biracial, her dark brown hair fighting to be frizzy. She did enjoy the fact her breasts and butt gotten bigger. She used to joke that her small butt was from her white side (which she only told to her fellow biracial or black friends). Rebecca looked at her cell phone and saw that her best friend called and she, of course, missed it. She left a voice mail, so Rebecca entered the password to listen to her messages.
“Wake up, McFly!” her voice sang to her. “I think I’m getting sympathy cravings because of you. I want some enchiladas! And I don’t even speak Mexican, call me back.”
Rebecca closed her phone after deleting the message, shaking her head with a grin. “Tatiana is a riot,” she said to herself.
After a quick visit to the bathroom Rebecca ventured down the hall of her apartment, which she could hear the news from the television. On the green loveseat sat her 13 year old cousin, Ezekiel, alone, staring at the news. He had a darker completion that Rebecca, with little hair on his head. He readjusted his thick glasses on his face. Rebecca frowned slightly seeing her cousin in pain after the accident that caused permanent nerve damage and blindness in his right eye. Young Ezekiel ever since had a strong fear of not only darts, but needles too.
“Zeek, turn it down. You’re blind not deaf,” Rebecca half yelled over the TV.
Ezekiel looked up, “Oh Rebecca, you’re up.”
“With the T.V on that loud I’m amazed anyone is not.”
“Sorry, it’s just…” he went silent. His eyes grew wide and all he could do was point. Rebecca was expecting to see news of a comic book convention or the death of another celebrity when she turned. When she saw the image she took a step back and her eyes grew wide as well.
On the news was a mug shot of a man, a man that escaped from a state prison just the night earlier. Bouncy raven black hair, a strong jawline, with deep brown eyes. The news anchor continued commentating.
“…Sidney De Luca, also known as “Shaman Sid” has escaped by help of a rouge guard. While other prisoners simply rioted and attempted to kill guards, Shaman Sid escaped without incident. You might remember he was picked up for possession of heroin and aggravated stalking in early 2008.”
“Oh my god,” Ezekiel wined and touched his blind eye.
“Relax Zeek, Sid won’t hurt us again,” Rebecca tried to sooth her cousin, holding him close. “Mom! Mom! Where are you?” she called.
Her mother came scurrying in. At age 50, Rebecca’s mother wasn’t as agile as she had been. She saw her grandchild and daughter huddled on the couch in fear and she picked up speed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, out of breathe.
“Sid… escaped,” Rebecca choked out.
“Oh no,” her mother sat down. “I knew he’d escape. They didn’t listen to us.”
“Get my phone mom. Tatiana needs to know. Oh no, Danny needs to know.”
“Wait, you never told Daniel about Sid?” her mother looked up.
“Of course not. You think any man would touch me if they knew what that bastard did to me?”
“But Daniel loves you.”
“And I love him too. I was just hoping that Sid would never get out.”
Ezekiel looked up, “Is Sid… coming after us?”
Rebecca’s mother leapt over to her grandchild. She held him close, “Of course not baby. He’ll never hurt you or us again.”
Rebecca made it back to her room, her smile wiped away. Adrenaline surged through her veins; her hands shook as she grabbed her cell phone and called her best friend.
“Hey bitch,” Tatiana laughed.
“T… You need to get me.”
“Rebecca? What’s wrong?”