Escape

A Story by alexalove

A story of a girl who is lost to a coma and struggles to be released from her own mind.

Bright red lights blazed against the sides of buildings, reflecting off their mirrored windows. The sirens wailed on through the dusk as if to tell the world of the tragic news. Cars parted immediately like the rippling waves of azure in an endless sea. The world was still, holding its breath for the lives of two young children. The sun refused to set, just leaving a thin, glowing strip of light beyond the horizon until the speeding ambulance could reach the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the ambulance doors flung open as paramedics rushed the two petite bodies through the hospital doors where multiple nurses directed the gurneys down hallways. The sound of rattling gurneys stirred the young girl as she opened her eye that had not been swollen over being met by the blinding fluorescent lights above her. She had no recollection of how she got in this foreign place or why she had been brought here. One nurse heard her gentle moans of pain and called to her, “Relax, Caroline. You’re safe now, and your aunt is on her way.”

As Caroline came around, she realized she could not move her neck very well. It was stiff and had been held in place by some object invisible to her. She could sense that most of her body was wet and sticky like she had just rolled through a jumbo bowl of melted, gooey strawberry ice cream. Some had even trickled into her gaping mouth and covered her lips in a scarlet luster. However, it made her gag; she could not breathe as the liquid proceeded to choke her. Caroline coughed for air sending a spray of crimson into the air and landing on the rosied cheek of a passing attendant. She could not relieve the lingering taste of salted molten metal from her gaping mouth.

The nurses finally pulled the two gurneys into a small room that stank of chemicals and bleach assaulting Caroline’s nostrils with the odorous, burning fumes. Her eyes filled with crystalline tears that were as clear as glass until blood ran through her lashes and into her eyes, giving them a rosy veneer. The lights of the hospital ceiling winked down at her like the sweetness of Christmas lights glinting around a towering evergreen. She blinked them away and attempted to push the blood from her forehead but found her arms had been bound to the rolling bed. A sense of sheer terror drifted over her like a blanket and no matter how much she pushed it, stretched it, kicked it, or beat it, it refused to cease its static cling on her captive body. Her fists clenched as she tried with every ounce of her strength to be released, but reality kept her ensnared in its paralyzing grasp. It was the crushing sense of reality that stirred her memory.

The sound of a dog’s deep, threatening growl rumbled through her ears. A hand extended outwards towards its muzzle of gleaming bared teeth daring it to keep moving. The hand, of course, was smaller than her own, that of a child’s not but ten at the very most. There was another sound of a bark before the image flittered away as she was on the move again. The wheel of her rolling gurney squeaked as it glided slowly along the hallway and into a new room where a doctor stood present.

Caroline was lifted onto an operating table and given a mild anesthetic for her pain, but the man in the white lab coat had dismissed the need for her to be unconscious. A feeling of warmth slowly spread over her as the hardened, cracking layer of blood was mopped away by a tall, kind-faced nurse with a gentle hand. The crimson crust was washed away exposing her swollen skin in need of urgent care. As the needle sank within Caroline’s tenderized muscle, she let herself remember again how she had landed herself in this position.

It had been a warm summer’s afternoon with the song of birds passing through the whispering wind. Her father had not been home all day; her brother Landon had suggested he was working overtime, but he never worked overtime, especially not on a Saturday. He had to be at the bar, drinking himself into another violent night of oblivion. The teen and her little brother sat on their browning lawn that had not been watered in several months and was turning to ash by the slightest touch. They could hear the hounds howling from their fenced prison in the back of the house, crying out for a spoiling of love and treats from their dear old master.

Their father had not always faltered over the words that poured from his own mouth each day. He was once the sunshine in their mother’s life as she had told the two children many-a-time. At one time, he was there each night to tuck his precious children away into the pleasantness of their silent slumber. In their youth, the children often caught their parents stealing away for a private kiss in the illusion that is true love. That is what their father had discovered the enervating night of the accident.

The very essence of his soul had been ripped from the marrow of his being by a shadow who had robbed him of everything only to abscond with it in the midnight air as soon as her last breath had slipped from her dying lips. The next afternoon, he came home with a pregnant hound that gave birth to a litter by the weekend. His children were as lost to him as his soul and disintegrating wife. The fragile pups consumed every drop of love that he could successfully ooze; it quickly became a rule that if either child so much as touched the mongrels, there would be hell to pay. By the night of her funeral, he picked up his heavy drinking habit that only forced Caroline to choke back her hysterical laughter at the pure irony of it, which only earned her several strikes to discipline her across her otherwise porcelain cheeks.

On the scorched lawn, Caroline stretched her toes out savoring the rays of the golden orb that kissed her snowy skin. She let her eyes flutter closed, ignoring the sound of Landon standing up, brushing the crisp blades from his toast colored shorts and long-sleeved green shirt with the white stripped cuffs, and walking into the house. Her mind did not find its way back to her until the groan of an engine and the squeal of tires as her father obnoxiously ruined her moment by signaling his raucous arrival. When her eyes opened, she saw his atrocious, ancient, burgundy sedan, lacking any kind of lustrous covering, parked askew with one tire undeniably up on the lawn. Caroline stood up, rolling her eyes and sighing in plain disgust at her father’s actions. The beefy man practically fell out of the driver’s side door and did not bother shutting it as he stumbled oafishly through the front door of their one story house.

Without a second thought, he staggered to the back yard to see his prized pups. Although, this time, Caroline did not hear his usual boisterous voice greeting his pets with unfaltering joy. Nothing was audible in the meager, one-story house, but the silence did not last long as a resonant clank of the metal fence and the chorus of barking dogs filled the previously hushed air. She sprinted through the living room to the kitchen seeing the back door flung open and the top half hanging off its rusted hinges. Multiple dull thuds were sounding from the yard like the pounding of a heart in the chest of an ox. The sun shone through the door, temporarily blinding her as her body seemed to move in slow motion as she took a step into the sunlight exhaling in anticipation.

Her father pounded his meaty fists into something hidden from her. All the dogs had scattered to the far corners of their fenced-in territory, but one of the sides of the fence was leaning over, hovering only a few feet from the ground. It dawned on her that her brother had not been in the house when she had walked in. Caroline’s gaze remained blankly fixed on her father using all his force to cripple the poor creature that lie beneath him. She was mute, for there was nothing to say to this detestable act. The man who had raised her was there before her undeniably beating his only son, yet he flung the boy across the yard like a weightless stuffed toy rabbit.

The chain-link fence clashed as the weight of the boy’s limp body crashed into it, undeniably identical to the sound she had heard in the kitchen forced a noise out of her. She screamed for him to stop, hollering with all her might to get his attention away from her motionless brother. Caroline lunged at him, grabbing his arm as he made his way to the body being cradled by the newly bent fence. With slight effort, he pushed his elbow back into her unprepared stomach, sending her to the ground with all the air pushed from her lungs. All she could do was gasp, clutching her empty, airless stomach, mouthing for him to stay away from the innocent boy. The man stood over the boy, his fist raised over his head clutching a stainless-steel food bowl that glimmered in the beaming sun. She could just make out the reflected outline of her brown hair blurred together of a swirling vortex of brown and white within the clear water and steel bottom. He muttered, “Don’t touch the dogs,” as he brought the bowl down on the boy’s skull with a powerful crack sending a spray of red across the yard to decorate the shabby hovel.

Without thinking, Caroline was on her feet and diving towards Landon to protect him. Her arms cradled his dented brain like a mother holding her nursing baby close to the protection of her chest. That was when the bowl came back down, smacking her across the eye, knocking her away from her helpless brother. Only partly conscious, she felt his hands slamming into her skin with each blow. Finally, her body could not withstand the pain and generously granted her the bliss of oblivion, so she would not have to come face-to-face with death. The last thing she remembered was the whine of sirens filling her ears as the rest of the world was enshrouded by darkness.

Again Caroline awoke in the stark hospital bed surrounded by sterilized walls, void of any color or decoration. Only one of her eyes would grant her with sight, blinking dazedly at the blinding nothingness of her room. Slowly, she turned her head to look out towards the hall. A gurney had been pushed up against the wall with a strange blanket covering some mass beneath. Her eyes continued shifting to a seat beside the bed where her aunt sat nervously gripping the handles on the faded green, metal chair that appallingly clashed with the colorless room. Hesitantly, the woman reached out, pushing Caroline’s matted hair aside with a dainty hand, trying not to irritate the swollen bruises around her eye and cheeks. Blood pounded through the girl’s head, beating against her brain forcing her to clench her teeth in excruciating agony. As her breathing sped up, the vision in her good eye blended the shades of white together and added flashing grey stars to make the room even more bland and tasteless.

Caroline’s aunt was on her feet within seconds hollering for a nurse, her voice panicked and cracking from lack of sleep, completely losing its normal melodic pitch. A slight nurse flew in, almost crashing into the gurney on her way, carrying a syringe and bottle of clear fluid. Without asking, the nurse began filling the syringe and injecting the formula into the intravenous, that until that moment had been invisible to Caroline. She also noticed a grey curtain that could be guided around her bed hanging behind her aunt’s abandoned chair. As the morphine began flowing into her veins, mixing with her blood, she felt as if someone had melted butter in her limp body filling her with a warmth that reached the tips of her fingers and made them tingle slightly. She was abuzz with relief.

As the day progressed, food was brought to Caroline, which she refused to consume. When a nurse came in to force-feed the patient the green jello, she could not swallow let alone open her mouth more than an inch or so to cram the bouncing blob inside of it. Anything that touched her skin set it ablaze like the pin pricks of thin needles filling her body with deadly venom. The nurse finally gave up on the bone-headed endeavor and floated out of the room carrying the jiggling poison with her. Caroline’s aunt refused to leave the girl’s bedside that day, making sure the pillows were properly fluffed and that her niece was as comfortable as possible. At one point, she had reached for Caroline’s hand, squeezing lightly for reassurance and comfort, but it only triggered a burst of electrical current to run explode through her in irritating torment.

Caroline’s doctor entered the room carrying a clipboard close to his chest. He annoyingly flipped back and forth between multiple sheets, checking charts, matching data, and making sure everything was correct. This extraneous routine proceeded for a good five minutes before he ever even opened his mouth, when he did finally say something his eyes never left the papers, and what he did say was just a note to himself. Caroline’s aunt patiently waited with her leg crossed over her other knee and her hands held over them as if trying to hold her legs together to keep them from falling flat to the floor. Finally, he looked up at the two of them with a broad, unnaturally forced smile, eerily chipper as he drew the grey curtain around the bed, enclosing the three of them in an uncomfortably cramped space. He turned to Caroline with his obnoxious grin and asked stupidly, “How are we doing today?” Caroline’s aunt raised her eyebrow, exchanging a puzzled glance with her niece, though Caroline could not as well convey her incredulity with half of her face swollen up like a melon.

“So,” he began, again referring to his charts once again, “as I’m sure you can tell, the damage is extremely severe. She may never fully regain her cognitive function. We expect she’ll have to relearn basically everything,” his words were heartlessly directed to Caroline’s aunt as if Caroline had vanished altogether. “We will have to operate again to try to repair some skull fracture in the brain.” Caroline’s aunt nodded understandingly as tears filled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Finally, Caroline let out a muffled moan to remind the man of her presence, but it only sounded like the call of a dying moose. He turned his head and flashed her his infuriating smile in acknowledgement.

“Thank you, doctor,” Caroline’s aunt spoke quietly, giving him an indirect order to let the two be alone. He nodded his head, before shooting Caroline one last vexatious grin. The curtain was drawn back, allowing the attack of whiteness to resume in Caroline’s vision, as his fine Italian leather loafers squeaked against the polished tile with every step.

Caroline’s aunt stood up, stretching her cramped arms and pulled the thin sheet that was supposed to keep Caroline warm at night up to her chest and folded the top part over like a mother tucking her child in for bed at night. Suddenly, something struck Caroline that made her embarrassed to only be thinking of it now. She extended a heavy hand towards her aunt, grabbing for her shirt, but her arm felt as if it had been laden with lead weights. Her aunt backed up, almost tripping over the legs of her chair while asking, “What is it, dear?” Caroline mustered her voice and mumbled Landon’s name as loud as possible, however, it didn’t sound like anything but a child trying to talk after shoving ten marshmallows in their mouth at once.

Caroline tried again, focusing on the annunciation of every letter, cherishing the childish sweetness even his name possessed. Caroline’s aunt seemed to realize from her niece’s gurgled language about what the girl was trying to inquire. She sat down looking around as if the room held the answer to the child’s question. Caroline watched the woman’s eyes as they swiveled around the room of nothingness until they came to rest on the abandoned gurney that remained in the hall. No answer was given; Caroline’s aunt only stood up, still not even looking her niece in the eye, and softly uttered “Excuse me,” as she stepped out into the hall.

Caroline furrowed her brow, distressed by her aunt’s lack of an answer and watched her shuffle out of the room. The woman stood there in the hall with two fingers held to her lips like an invisible cigarette was propped between her thin lips in anxious worry. As a passing nurse strolled down the hallway, Caroline’s aunt called to her, beckoning her over. She frantically whispered in the nurse’s ear, glancing at Caroline, and urgently pointing at the gurney in question. The nurse nodded and took hold of the gurney’s handles, giving it an initial jolt of motion causing a human arm to flop down making it wave sickeningly as Caroline’s aunt stormed back into the room.

Caroline watched the arm as it shook lifelessly while the gurney lurched out of sight. It struck her that the green-sleeved arm belonged to her brother. However, the delicate white cuffs had been stained dark crimson that could never be washed out. It was the arm of her brother that waved goodbye to her, sending her head spinning as the white walls turned black in her eyes, and her aunt ran for the bedside with a panicked expression screaming the girl’s name then for a nurse. The world was black and would forever remain that way to Caroline. The world had stolen her brother, so she forced it to take her as well.

Corilena saw the distinct, willowing branches that hid them from the sight of the guards, leaves blowing and brushing her cheek. Dannol turned and smiled at her, that smile that gave her the ever-lasting confidence that they would make it out of here. Her vision blurred for a moment, the whirls of greens, browns, and greys mixing together. When it cleared, Dannol ran out in front of her, standing in the middle of the path with bright lights shining on him like a player in a stadium, running for the touchdown, the guard coming at her beloved friend with his black club raised in hand. She could not scream, only watch in open-mouthed terror as red droplets splattered the foliage, like an abstract painting, hiding her from sight. As the guard lowered his club, he turned his sweating, balding head, panting heavily and flashed her a devilish smile of pointed, gleaming teeth, and the boy’s corpse turned its head, smiling broadly with blood clinging to his teeth and winked as a drop of blood rolled down his cheek like a crimson tear. She gasped as her heart flew up into her throat…

Corilena awoke with a start. The thin, white sheet that normally made her itch was twisted around her slender legs and delicate hips. Her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat that only grew worse as her heart hammered against her ribs, seemingly trying to explode, while she worked to slow her ragged breathing. Corilena sat up, delicately rubbing her pounding temples as her brain rattled around in her skull, as if it wished to be free. The repetitive cement-bricked floor of her diminutive cell felt like blocks of ice cut from the depths of hell on her cracked feet. She lets out a long sigh, knowing that the chilling nightmare would forever be imprinted in her mind like the emptiness of a portrait removed from a sun-bleached wall.

She could never forget that horrible night when she had let her only friend in this despicable place perish at the hands of the dark guardian. He was the only person who knew her ceaseless struggle to be free. She did not belong with these awful criminals who were more like brutish animals than a part of humanity. He would have done anything to see her walk freely in the open world again. He even gave his own life for it. Corilena stood up and walked across the course, grey blocks that confined her, to the barred window and looked out. She easily spotted the brightly lit pathway surrounding her hell where the sticky, scarlet pool had once been. She closed her eyes, and the visions danced before her again. As she slowly lifted her lids, she decided she would escape, not only for him, but for herself.

She paced slowly back and forth within her cell, waiting for the memory to give her a peaceful sleep. The light shone in through the bars, so even her apathetic shadow was in its own cage. She sat down on her bed, carefully curling her legs under her, so that when she lied down, she would be in a fetal ball; however, there was no mother there to hold her, gently brush her hair back, and whisper in a soothing voice that everything would be alright. That had not been with her for a long time. A single, warm tear slid down her unblemished cheek, praying with her life that the evil dream would not appear to her for the remainder of the night.

Corilena awoke in her cell as the flaking, fastened jail door slammed open. Groggily, she stood up on feeble legs as the piercing alarm sounded, and an attendant entered her cell. Dressed in a pristine, white uniform with gloved hands, the attendant told Corilena to hold her arms out from her sides and spread her legs. Corilena glared straight ahead at the grey, stone wall hiding her from the world as hands slid over her limbs and sides, squeezing roughly to check her for weapons or even health problems before being released for breakfast mealtime.

She watched other inmates pass her on the metal walkway, leering at her, judging her for her innocence. One oddly familiar looking woman glanced at her, a woman convicted of drunk driving. She appeared motherly and sweet like a woman you would see pictures hugging her two children in brightly colored, but she was a drunkard nonetheless. The woman only sneered at Corilena, the dull thunks of her footsteps growing louder and faster as she rushed to get off the walkway, away from the young girl who should not be there.

Corilena approached the many rows of long tables. With their rounded, plastic chairs attached by a metal bar, they seemed hardly wide enough to comfortably seat any person. She picked the least damaged or defaced plastic circle seat and sat down. Next to her was a newcomer, a strange looking woman with a long, pointed face and slender body. She knew she was a gang leader who had killed a man in a shootout, but she was strange to her. She didn’t look like any thug-like gang member she had ever seen. She wore a nicely pleated suit that was pressed as if she were a big-shot lawyer with her own respected firm. Her hair was thinning, golden-blonde with a few distinguished greys mixed in. Corilena realized she had stared at her too long.

The woman sneered at her and made sounds that only came out as primitive grunts and gurgles. She stood up quickly, her heart racing, preparing to run from the monster standing over her. She flung both their trays across the room, where they slammed against the cement, smearing it with streaks of undesirable “nourishment”, as she stood up. He flexed his unimpressive muscles, only showing off how skinny and unthreatening he seemed. A piercing alarm rang through the cramped dining hall, seeming to sound out of nowhere. Coming to her aid, a petite, young woman dressed in a starched, white uniform rushed to the woman, injected her with some kind of paralyzing substance, and wheeled the limp, lifeless-like figure to her new cell. Corilena’s eyes followed the rolling chair when a guard took her by the arm, dragging her back to her gloomy abode.

Staring at the unpolished steel toilet where she could see her blurred reflection, Corilena sat on her bed in her shadowy cell with a spring dully poking into her thigh. She studied the distorted image of her chocolate-brown hair outlining her delicately round face, falling around her shoulders in messy curls. She thought about the day the police had come for her, arresting her just after her morning shower, beads of water still dripping from the ends of her hair in the squad car. During the trial, she had twirled the ends of her hair around her fingers in nervous anxiety until the jury declared her guilty. A jury of men and women dressed in those white uniforms sealing her fate and sending her to the wrong address. But she was innocent, and she wouldn’t let herself become part of this doomed hell.

She looked down at her hands in her lap, examined her wrists, turning them over and over again looking for something she could not find. There was only flawless skin, not even a birthmark, freckle, or scar to speak of. She then looked at her legs, finding no marks on either of them either, nothing to mark her as different or make her innocent. It was like a bad dream that a small child would wake up crying from. A dream that she would awake from no matter what it took.

Corilena stood up and walked to her barred window as she had done countless times each day, over and over, since first she arrived at this place. She spotted the same reddish dirt path that separated the wall and the prison and the wall separating her from freedom. There, she saw the unchanging husky guard that always patrolled the wall. He gripped his club brutish and firmly in one beefy hand just like he had that night, always prepared to defend his horrible hound. A massive, vicious beast walked directly in front of him in an endless, surveilling loop around the unchanging, grey confinement. It had short, course fur with a lengthy, pointed tail. Its teeth seemed permanently bared with giant paws sending up clouds of dirt with each step.

She thought of the night of the escape, their plan to get out. Corilena knew the plan hadn’t been flawed, their timing was just off. Her eyes instinctively widened as she remembered it. She decided that this night she would sneak off to during supper and carefully get outside. She would hide in the foliage as they had that night, but this time, she would wait for the guard to pass her hiding spot first and turn the corner. Then, she would make a run for it.

Corilena sat in the dining hall on her plastic circle-chair holding a spoonful of some kind of supposedly edible substance to her slightly parted lips but could not take a bite. She only sat waiting and observing the room carefully looking for her escape route. She detected the main guard leave for his break, knowing there would be five minutes before another actual gun-toting man showed up to make sure none of the prisoners did anything unwise. She stood up, abandoning her tray and slipped into the crowd of other prisoners, shielding her from the wary eyes of the white-uniformed women serving as shepherds for the time being.

Corilena hid behind a wall watching the door automatically slide open and the replacement guard walk inside and turn towards the dining hall full of rowdy prisoners. She watched him go and sprinted as fast as she possibly could to slip out the closing portal. She flew out of it just in time, but she could not stop running or else the other guards would see her. She slide into the overgrown bushes like it was home plate, skinning her knees on the rocky ground.

Instinctively, her hands flew to her skinned knee to minimize the pain, but the jagged crags were only forced deeper in her torn flesh. Corilena wanted to scream in agony, but it would only signal her position amongst the thicket. Her teeth sank into her lower lip making it physically impossible for her to make any kind of noise that might give her away. Her fingers became warm and sticky as a flood of thickened blood seeped from her knee, streaming down her slender legs. The pain of it throbbed like a beating heart set to flame, so that she didn’t want to move; though, she couldn’t stay hidden within the brush forever. Very slowly, she lifted her hand, as if afraid of what she would find there.

Her porcelain skin was no longer visible where the blood that had turned the once dry dirt into a pasty mud covering the oozing wound. Angular gravel of all sizes had embedded themselves in her peeling skin. With her dainty fingers, she carefully took hold of one of the longer, craggy fragments, pulling hastily at it. Pain seared through her entire leg like an electric shockwave. She could not scream, so she bit her bottom lip again with full force causing a thin rivulet of blood to dribble from her white-lined mouth. It was unlikely Corilena could fix her knee without screaming, so there was no way she could sit there without getting caught.

Mind made up, Corilena tenderly brushed as much dirt off the wound as she possibly could. Her damaged knee would just have to wait; her freedom was imperative at this point. Soundlessly, she inched up to a fallen log with a part in the leaves for her to watch and wait for the guard who circled the prison like a vulture eyeing its free, decaying meal. She ignored the pain rippling through her knee, watching intensely. Her breathing was calm and steady, but her heart began hammering erratically; Freedom was so close at hand. Adrenaline coursed through her blood, surging through her body, causing the pain to dissipate. Now panting, Corilena’s vision blurred, and a figure appeared beside her.

There was Dannol, clear as the bright, shining sun, lying in the brush looking out onto the road with her. She stared at him, fixated, with her mouth hanging open, flabbergasted by what she was seeing. However, the glittering image of Dannol faded slowly into the overgrown bushes. Still in partial shock, she shook her head to refocus herself at the task at hand, but a voice spoke in her mind, Dannol’s soft voice. He whispered to her, “We have to go now.” Corilena looked around wildly for the source of the murmur. Those words were the exact ones he had spoken to her that night as they lay in the brush trying to escape together. Something else caught her eye, a brown and white ball flicked by, sending a rustle through the bushes. Again the creature moved, nudging its head out from the overhanging leaves and brushing its soft fur against her. The rabbit’s long ears pivoted, listening for the sound of crunching gravel, and its nose twitched sniffing for sweet clover.

She tried to ignore the visions playing tricks on her; she had to watch for the burly guard, and there he appeared. However, Dannol stood there, too, with all lights ablaze, pointed on him gleaming off his golden hair. He was the only actor on an open stage about to deliver his award-winning monologue, but the director was coming to cut him from the intense performance. The guard raised his brutish club and swung down with all his weight behind him as Dannol covered his head with his thin arms. When the club made contact with his skull, Corilena squeezed her eyes shut as the sickening crack rang out into the otherwise silent night. It occurred to her, though, that the air was once again silent. Guards ran neither to help the poor boy nor to search for anyone else missing from their cell. Her eyes opened, still squinting in case she was met with the terror of her bloodied friend lying limply in the lane, but the path was clear of anything at all.

The crunch of dirt beneath the worn boots of the guard resonated like a distant whisper carried on the wind towards her makeshift shelter. Her heart raced again and she began panting heavily as a wave of nausea flowed up from the pit of her stomach. The faith she had had in her plan began waning as questions like “what if I get caught?” brewed in her mind. At this moment, she felt the urge to burst forward, just make a desperate run for it, and never look back. She arched her back in a crouching position like a sprinter preparing for a 100-meter dash when the feeling of hot droplets splattered across her vulnerable face.

Instinctively, her eyes snapped shut to keep the liquid from clouding her vision. She moved her hand to wipe the spray from her flushed cheek and came back with a sticky, scarlet smear across her palm. More of the diminutive pellets covered the lush leaves like the shrapnel from a massive bomb. Dannol lay on the path creating a stream beneath his body that surged toward her hiding spot. Her mouth hung open, still stunned, as the vision of death turned to a cloud of dust when the guard trod through the image of the boy’s mangled body lying in the dirt.

She let out a muffled squeak, causing the hound’s ears to perk up. Its beady eyes peered into her hiding spot, sensing her presence and approaching the unkempt shrubbery growling ferociously. The guard grumbled under his breath at the inconvenience of being led away from his continuous routine. Suddenly, the petite rabbit sprang forth, running down the path, sending the mongrel darting after it with the guard lumbering behind. Corilena’s breathing suddenly calmed, her ears held a high-pitched tone from panic, and her heartbeat slowed as she realized she could do this. She would escape.

Corilena regained her crouching position, ready to make the race for her life. The footsteps grew distant as the man and his hound rounded the corner, leaving her unattended to make her move. She waited for just a second longer, but her mind raced through a million thoughts; it seemed like forever. Then, that was it. She was lunging from the bushes, flying through the air, landing feet away from the wall. Immobile, she looked around as if waiting for someone to notice her.

She ran off the edge of path her feet had landed on and into the shadows cast by the immense blockade that was the wall. She placed her palms flat against the coarse, grey stone and looked up for what seemed like miles into the vast raven-winged sky. Tracing the wall with the tips of her fingers, she searched for the vertical crack that held the golden key to her precious release. Her fingers found the minute gap before she slammed all her weight against it, which set off the shrieking alarm that gave her away. The words “code blue” rang into the night air like the nagging caw of a raven, enveloping the prison.

Quickly, she continued slamming her body against the wall, against the passage that determined her fate. Finally, the door gave way, letting her burst through it and fall to the ground. She landed on her side, her entire body wailing in resonating torment. Momentarily, she looked out at her captive home like looking at a castle in a snow globe. The alarm still yelled out, accusing her of getting out, but no one came for her. No guards ran towards her trying to grab her legs and hold her there; the prison sat there like an abandoned warehouse with ghosts staring vacuously from the windows. Prisoners, she realized, had noticed her escape, looking out at her with lifeless faces from their haunted cells. Tears burned in her eyes, but she could not keep sitting here staring at a place that was not meant for her.

She stood up, and as she did so, the hidden, stone door slammed shut sealing her out from the prison forever. However, from over the wall, a howl sung out and the whisper of guards came towards the wall. Slowly, Corilena retreated from her wall. She had come all this way for freedom; she would not lose it now. Turning on her heels, she took off in a mad dash, running as fast as she possibly could, and flying through the night. She began panting as she got further and further away. Dully, the pain in her knee and side crept to life within her again just as exhaustion bore down on her like a sibling noogie. Air refused to fill her lungs long enough to sustain life. Finally, she collapsed on the cool earth with her legs together laid out in front of her and her arms stretched out limply on either side.

Corilena gazed up at the brilliant stars winking down at her. They seemed to be congratulating her enormous accomplishment. The blood rushing to her brain made it sound like their thunderous applause for the symphony of her liberation. The stars slowly faded to complete darkness as the curtain fell, ending the performance as she drifted into a deep sleep.

The streaming light of the brilliant sun streamed through her cracked eyelids like never before. Afar in a towering birch, a blackbird chirped blissfully, which suddenly called her out of her slumber. Birds did not sing round the prison walls; the despair and gloom that oozed from the prisoners shunned the happiness that flowed from their open beaks. Upon opening her eyes, she saw the sky above her, cloudless and endless with the sun stuck right in the middle.

No bars or endless grey slabs surrounded her. Still dazed, she looked around her, letting her fingers slide over the uncut blades of lustrous, green grass, of which she had slept dreamlessly for the first time since her imprisonment. The fallow field she found herself in was overwhelming. The rich odor of wild honeysuckle, lilac, and violets wafted around her as the sweet songs of birds warbled from the distant trees. Corilena’s eyes flittered closed to help her increase the intoxicating scent of the blossoms. The natural scene surrounding her was like an extravagant landscape on display in an art museum. A remote mountain sat obscurely beyond the trees, tying the display together in a meticulous fashion.

However, it began to dawn on her that she had not planned for this. It had always been about the escape: how to get outside, how to avoid the guards, where she had to be to find the doorway. What would she do now that she was beyond the confines? She had nowhere to go, nothing to eat, and not a clue as to how to survive on her own. She glanced back at what she believed was the direction of the prison, realizing that she did not know which direction she had run from. Heaving a sigh, she set off forward, following the line of trees, hoping they would lead her somewhere.

The glowing sun fixed high in the sky beat down on her back causing sweat to bead up around her neck and roll down her body. Her breath came out in heaving sighs as she strained to inhale. Long ago, the dry cracks in her feet had split open in the agony of walking as long as she had, leaving a trail of blood-soaked footprints in her wake. Her knee, too, added to the bloody footsteps, while her side throbbed dully. The makeshift road she had been following turned into a blur of green that turned to brown as her body gave way, collapsing in the guarded shade of the trees. Nausea washed over just as her vision narrowed turning the world black. A high-pitched buzzing surrounded her as the trees whispered mellifluously in her ear.

It was dark when Corilena came to. Crickets hidden in the grass filled the air with a symphony of chirps. The pain in her head and side throbbed like the drum keeping beat for the orchestra playing for the audience of creatures in the field. Her feet and knee had since stopped bleeding, leaving her skin covered in her own flaking rust. Slowly, she raised herself to a sitting position and rested her weight against a nearby tree. She smacked her chapped lips looking around for anything that could quench her thirst. A loud grumble emanated from her stomach telling her to find food.

Grabbing onto a low branch, she pulled herself up to her feet. Her body quaked as she supported herself by holding the tree limb. The sound of rushing water caught her attention. It sounded close by, just beyond the trees. She took hold of the trunks on either side of her and walked through the thin line of trees, finding a stream on the other side.

She fell to her knees in front of the crystal-clear, rushing water like it was her God. Tentatively, she placed her hand over the flowing liquid to make sure it was real. The crisp water instantly cooled her hand, sending chills throughout her overheated body. She cupped her hands and lifted the water to her lips letting it fill her mouth. As her mouth was moistened, her stomach gave another near-deafening growl. Rubbing it gently, as if to appease it, she felt relief. It felt as if someone had hooked a channel up to her stomach and provided the nutrition she craved.

Feeling tired again, she stretched out in the grass beside the water and starred up at the stars. They winked at her shyly, and she just smiled. The water spread its coolness over her like a blanket. She looked down at her feet, momentarily ignoring the crusted blood and wiggled her toes freely. She smiled to herself like a young child discovering the great fun of its own limbs; she even giggled at the simplicity of it. It took no planning or complication, just child’s play. Warmth flowed through her, relieving her of any pain, leaving her to enjoy her childish game. It seemed as if the brook was singing a lullaby for she was soon drifting off into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Dawn broke through the trees, revealing the girl asleep in a meadow. She cracked her eyes to view the sun rising over her with a small creature sniffing about her face. Startled, she blinked repeatedly, gaining full use of her eyes. The animal drew back and remained still beside her. Staring into her eye was a small rabbit. Carefully, she lifted her head so as not to frighten the poor thing. Slowly sitting up, she stretched her arm out to it slowly where it sniffed enthusiastically, tickling her open palm. The rabbit hopped closer to her perceiving her as not being a threat as she sat in a cross-legged position. It crawled right into her lap searching for food.

Corilena grabbed a handful of clover growing beside the stream. As she offered it to the innocent creature, it took a blossom wholly in its now chubby cheeks, chewing quickly. She smiled to herself, stroking its soft fur while it ate from her hand. When it had finished, it hopped out of her lap, but stayed by her side looking for more tasty treats. Brushing herself off, she stood up and went to the stream looking down at a clearer version of her reflection. Her faced looked back at her, but it was not her face, it couldn’t be. One eye was swollen shut and another large bruise almost covered the other side of her face. Her hands instinctively flew to her cheeks, pressing gently on either side but feeling nothing. When she looked into the rushing water again, all she saw was her unblemished, fair facade staring back up at her.

She turned her head to check for her rabbit friend, who was still there sniffing around the grass, nibbling hastily. Her knee throbbed again. She decided to clean herself up a bit in the water. Crouching on the bank, she reached her hand out feeling the temperature of the water. It seemed warmer than it had the previous night, so she decided to just plunge in headfirst. Her soaked uniform clung to her skin as warm water rushed gently over her knee, cleansing it of the dirt and blood that had collected there. Fish gathered by her legs, nibbling lightly making her giggle. Pebbles collected beneath her feet upon the sponge-like bottom, causing her toes to curl into the squishy silt. She enjoyed the pure bliss of the warm water of the sun-touched stream, worshipping the bath she had not had in so long.

After standing in the water for what seemed like an eternity, she decided to clean herself as best she could. She dipped her hair back in the water and ran her fingers through it, releasing the tangles that had collected since her last shower. Sinking beneath the surface, her hair flowed back with the current as any dirt and oil flushed from her delicate cheeks. Rising from the water, her lungs seemingly exploding from only a few seconds of being submerged as she inhaled deeply.

She pulled herself out of the water just as it became icy again. Standing on the bank, she rang out her hair turning it into a thick, wet, brown rope. Her uniform dripped, getting the bunny all wet. It backed away from her to clean its fluffy face with its tiny paws. Corilena looked down at her drenched clothes, now regretting her decision to wash those too. A brisk breeze blew by her causing her to shiver fiercely. Knowing she could not stay in wet clothes all day, she decided to build a fire to dry herself out.

Corilena stepped over to the line of trees with the rabbit hopping after her. Picking up twigs and fallen branches, she collected as much wood as possible for a roaring fire to keep her warm. One thing Dannol had taught her back at the prison was how to start a fire. He told her that she didn’t need a lighter or matches; two pieces of flint would do the trick. She arranged the wood in an open pyramid with the dry leaves and grass in the middle as he had taught her. Then, she returned to the other side of the field, peering through the tall grass for the waxy rock she needed. Spotting it, she pulled it out if the dirt and went to her makeshift campsite.

She cleaned the precious rock in the running water, ridding it of the dirt that disguised its perfection. Holding it up to the sun, it gleamed dull grey as water dripped from the sides. A large boulder sat on the bank that could be used to split her treasure. Gripping each end in either hand, she brought down the flint with a loud crack of grinding stone. A white firework pattern was imprinted on the river stone as the flint lay in two pieces upon the bank. Her rabbit leapt to her side, sniffing at one of the split pieces. Taking her divided prize, she crouched over her sticks and struck them together.

Every hour, Corilena walked back into the trees to collect wood to keep her fire going. Her rabbit had long since fallen asleep from the enveloping warmth; although, her uniform was still annoyingly damp. Occasionally, she would toss in crisp, dry leaves just to watch them be incinerated by the flames. Before she knew it, dusk had settled upon the field, making her fire the only source of visible light. Her stomach growled. She glanced down at her furry friend with predatorial hunger but resisted the urge.

Staring into the mesmerizing flames, her hunger began to subside while images danced for her. Dannol’s face appeared smiling at her but quickly flicked away. A series of prisoners’ faces flashed before her in the light of the fire as her eyes drooped with exhaustion. Then a woman that Corilena did not recognize appeared in the sparks. The face only watched for a moment before fading like the others, but Corilena could not help wondering who this woman was before drifting off to sleep with the fire burning down to ashes.

Rustling leaves woke her the next morning. She sat up abruptly, searching for the source of the noise. Wind was blowing through the trees causing the leaves to stir noisily. She surveyed the area just in case anything else was lurching, as the sound of a snapping twig behind her caused her to spin wildly. The rabbit bounced toward her over more dropped twigs. Kicking the burned ashes with her foot, she decided it would be best to move away from her campsite in search of a town to shelter her. She walked towards the tree line, bunny hopping along behind her, and made her way forward.

Within a few hours, a grey mist had settled on either side of her shielding her vision of anything but the path. The sky still held its calming pale blue shade. The rabbit stayed close to her to avoid separation. As they made their way further along, the line of trees grew denser, soon becoming a full forest, surrounding the pair on all sides. The sun shone through a gap in the treetops, illuminating Corilena in a spotlight.

Corilena stood before the solid wood as wind blew through it, whistling and whipping against the trees. She took a step toward the pitch-black entrance, looking back at her faithful friend. The rabbit peered up at her, petrified. Beckoning it along, Corilena took another step forward. It shivered but remained in the same spot. Deciding she could not wait, she walked toward the forest, allowing the darkness to swallow her up with the rabbit staring after her in wonder.

Nothing could be seen in the sunless thicket. Both hands immediately flew out in front of her feeling around desperately for trees or a path. Thinking it would help, she shrank to her knees, crawling around on the pitch black floor. Pine needles stuck to her hands leaving sappy trails. Occasionally, her hand would find the base of a wide tree or an uncovered root. Eventually, she stumbled onto what she believed to be a path.

Having crawled for what must have been several hours, she made her way to the side of the path against a tree trunk. She brushed the extra pine needles from her hands and open wound on her knee. Heaving a sigh, she brought her knees up around her. She could see nothing in the darkness. A feeling of helplessness washed over her. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her heavy lids drooped closed and she drifted off into a deep slumber.

Corilena awoke in the darkness forgetting where she was, thinking that she had gone blind. Instinctively, she called out for Dannol. Slowly, she remembered everything that had happened over the course of the past few days. At this moment, she desired the company of Dannol, her rabbit friend, or anyone really, just as long as it was something to comfort her. Loneliness overtook her thoughts as she pictured what her new life would be like: a small cottage in some distant village where she would have to hide her face in fear of being caught and sent back to jail.

She decided it was time to get a move on; she could ponder her new life on the road. Getting back on her hands and knees in such a primal state, she realized she did not know which way to go. Nothing could be seen in such blackness. She could not recall which direction she had come from or which direction she was headed. Crawling towards the center of the path, she sat deciding which way to go. Disheartened, she sighed morosely, picked a way, and hoped for the best.

Picturing herself living alone in her cottage, Corilena became more frightened. What if she was caught? She frequently glanced behind her thinking of her poor rabbit waiting for her to reappear at the forest’s edge. Suddenly, she heard a crunch emanating from the nearby trees. Immediately, she froze, looking around wildly for the source of the sound; it was useless since there was nothing to be seen.

The air around her grew colder. She could feel the warmth of her own breath on her hands. Her heart pounded against her ribs in an audible thumping pattern. She took each step as slowly and as quietly as she could; her breath, though, was loud and panting from the feeling of foreboding growing from the pit of her stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a white shadow flash by the edge of the trees. Her eyes remained fixed where the apparition had bolted by. With her last step, her hand unexpectedly reached for solid ground but found something else blocking her from going any further.

Her hand gripped what she thought had been a branch, but it was covered in thick fur. Her heart hammered loudly as she shivered and panted as her body went rigid in petrified horrification. A deep-throated growl rumbled in her ears. Hot stinking breath blew against her rosy cheek. Corilena looked about her open-mouthed. From above, two big, yellow eyes glowed in the darkness reflecting off its gleaming, white teeth; surrounding the two of them on the open path were matching, glowing suns approaching their impending meal. In doomed realization, she closed her eyes as the growling grew louder and closer to her.

When the teeth sank into her flesh, she let out an excruciating shriek, but there was no relief. More teeth joined the first set as the wild hounds ripped and tore her to shreds. Her sobs and pleas for death made it no better; they only sunk in deeper till they exposed her to the bone. Finally, the torture ended and the hounds retreated to the secure sanctuary of the trees.

Corilena lay there in the woods in the middle of the path. She could feel the blood draining from her quickly as pieces of her muscle and flesh had been torn from her bones. Her heart was no longer racing but barely fluttering in her chest; her breaths came shallow and ragged. Tears streamed soundlessly down her cheeks mixing with the pool of blood surrounding her near lifeless body. She was then aware that something soft and small had curled up beneath her arm, providing her with a few last minutes of warmth. Her rabbit had found her after all.

The blackness of death enshrouded her limp body, reaching down for her. Corilena beamed, greeting her black-cloaked savior welcomely; she wouldn’t have known what to do in the free world. Finally, Dannol came to her in a vision of blanched white robes. He smiled, extending a hand to her to help her up. As she reached hers up to meet his, a blinding white light flashed through the forest, and Corilena could see the blurred outlines of grey figures standing over her, receiving her to the new world to which she now belonged.

The blinding light of the hospital room set off the whiteness of the doctor’s coat, the tile floors, and the patient’s bed sheets that had drifted to the floor from her violent thrashing. The heart monitor blipped continuously trying to keep up with Caroline’s racing heart. A petite nurse with thin arms attempted to hold her still, but it was no use against the girl’s violent convulsions, the seizure shaking through every nerve in her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head exposing the lack of pupils facing them.

“Give the girl a sedative!” the doctor called out over the commotion, “Her heart is going to give out!” His latex gloves were still glossy with blood from the surgical procedure he had just performed with the dripping scalpel still raised in his hand. The sea-foam mask shrouded his stern face.

Another nurse prepared the shot quickly, yet as she went to inject it into the IV at the girl’s side, she hesitated. A bubbling drop grew from the minute opening of the needle like a drop of blood welling from a pricked finger. The doctor barked out at her, refocusing her attention as she filled the bag with the tranquilizing fluid. They waited in deafening silence till the heart monitor returned to beeping in monotonous, repetitive time. Without a second thought, the doctor turned and left the room, brushing by Caroline’s aunt on his way out. She stood in the doorway nervously fidgeting with her styrofoam cafeteria coffee cup.

After a few moments, the thin-armed nurse picked up the sheet that had fallen to the floor and went to fetch a clean one from the supply closet while the other stayed behind staring intently at the blissfully sleeping girl. Caroline’s aunt resumed her seat in the hideous green chair that had been placed loyally by the head of the bed, bent over to pick up the old stuffed rabbit that had been flung from the bed during the girl’s fit, and fingered its petal soft ear subconsciously. It had been the Caroline’s favorite toy growing up, never left her side as a child; it deserved to be here now with its undying caregiver.

“You hesitated,” she said, “When you were giving her the sedative you hesitated. Why?” The nurse continued eyeing the resting girl in mute disbelief. Caroline’s swollen eye was beginning to compress, the angry redness of her wounds was fading back to a recognizable skin tone, and her broken bones were mending, but the girl could not, would not ever, wake from her ceaseless sleep. The silent pause drew out as they each remained in their positions waiting for the nurse’s answer. Finally, she said, “I saw her look at me for a moment, but I must have been dreaming,” and with that, she left the room without another word.

The skinny woman came back, spreading the paper-like sheet over the bed with practiced skill. Within a matter of seconds, it was tucked around the patient, and the slender-figured female glided out of the room soundlessly. With a furrowed brow, Caroline’s aunt glanced from her niece to the picture that had been placed by the girl’s bedside of the aunt’s sister holding her two children. They were all happy with bright faces that could not expect such tragedies to befall them. The image of Caroline’s unblemished beauty was still frozen in this perfect minute of time. As she looked at Landon’s bright, smiling face, she though of how his funeral would take place the following day where he would be buried beside his mother’s festering, rotting bones.

She recalled the funeral of her sister. The children stood dutifully by their mother’s polished coffin weeping for their last hope at love. However, their father slouched in a pew in the back by the door of the chapel reeking of bourbon and tobacco, even gnawing noisily on a saturated piece of chaw. Throughout the ceremony, he called out profane obscenities of how his wife had been coming home from her lover’s house, that he could smell the wafting scent of sweat and shame on her lifeless body when he was called to identify her at the morgue. That was when the aunt had escorted all the children from the church and taken them to the upturned earth where the coffin would be lowered and sealed by fresh soil. The day had been unseasonably warm, the sunlight warming their mourning garments filling the saddest day with the tender love of the sun.

Later, a new nurse appeared, prepping the bed that had belonged to the lawyer that had come in just a few days before. The woman had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, walking down the bustling city street during a gang shootout. The bullet that pierced her punctured her lung, forcing her to choke for every breath of abundant air while drowning in her own pooling blood. She had thrashed about, grabbing for strips of clothing flowing by her to hold onto, pleading wordlessly for her fading life with anyone who would listen to the muffled gargles. Finally, the nurse humanly gave him a shot of morphine to ease her as she passed.

Returning to her duties as the new guardian of Caroline, she pulled the blanket up on her chest watching it rise and fall gently and smoothly. She rested back in her chair thinking of what the nurse had said. What if she really had opened her eyes? Would it even be possible for her to wake up without her killing herself first? And would she even remember anything if she did wake up? Her mind thought over all these things, hoping it would be possible for her niece to be herself again. She saw Caroline’s smiling face in the photograph as she drifted off to sleep in her chair, pulling her coat around her.

As the sun shone through the pristinely washed window, Caroline’s aunt rose from her seat. Her arms reached out and away from her head toward the endless, open sky as she yawned. She blinked multiple times trying to rewet her arid eyes as a nurse walked in, drawing the grey curtain around the motionless patient to maintain some sense of normality in the brief privacy that be provided. A fresh IV was hooked up to Caroline before the nurse checked her over, looking for the gradual recovery of the girl’s disabled body. Once the inspection had ended, the curtain was drawn back letting the light illuminate the sleeping beauty. Her aunt tilted her head to the side, smiling at the sleeping girl. She pushed back the girl’s hair as it hung around her forehead as it had after every inspection by the nurse. The glowing sun hit the polished chrome headboard sending out glimmering beams that made a ring around the girl’s soft hair.

She stood up from the chair that had remained planted in the same spot for the past few days. Her coat hung loose folded over her arm as she leaned over to pick up her duffel bag that seemed to be spewing clothes from its open lips. The maternal woman made sure the girl was covered and as comfortable as possible. In her mind, there was no way the girl could be harmed, not with a sign from her own sister. Bending over, she pressed her lips to Caroline’s cool forehead, squeezing her eyes shut, as she imagined the girl’s sweet face smiling at her, running to hug her, and wrapping her arms around her legs in unending, child-like love. Rising, Caroline’s aunt wiped a single tear from her eye and turned to leave. The walk to the door seemed like the longest she had ever taken. She paused at the doorframe looking back at the lonely body inhabiting the single bed before she left the room completely, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.

The sun disappeared behind the clouds suddenly, forcing the ring to fade into shadow. The silent hospital room was a dark tomb with the unwavering whiteness encompassing the desolate chamber. A faint murmur was the only thing that could be heard. “Free-dom” hummed through the room, flowing out the door, and was carried around the hospital like the secret of a squalid beggar. Though her lips never moved, the girl screamed for it, imploring to be released from the prison of her mind, but she could not escape.

Corilena saw the distinct, willowing branches that hid them from the sight of the guards, leaves blowing and brushing her cheek. Dannol turned and smiled at her, that smile that gave her the ever-lasting confidence that they would make it out of here. Her vision blurred for a moment, the whirls of greens, browns, and greys mixing together. When it cleared, Dannol ran out in front of her, standing in the middle of the path with bright lights shining on him like a player in a stadium, running for the touchdown, the guard coming at her beloved friend with his black club raised in hand. She could not scream, only watch in open-mouthed terror, as red droplets splattered the foliage, like an abstract painting, hiding her from sight. As the guard lowered his club, he turned his sweating, balding head panting heavily and flashed her a devilish smile of pointed, gleaming teeth, and the boy’s corpse turned its head, smiling broadly with blood clinging to his teeth and winked as a drop of blood rolled down his cheek like a crimson tear. She gasped as her heart flew up into her throat…