With quick but silent steps, I make my way to the door, pull a bobby pin out of my hair and twist it into the keyhole to open it. The door opens with a reverberating clang from the old lock, and the hinges creak in protest. It’s shocking how easy it is to sneak past here.
I quickly scurry through the elegantly decorated corridor, where the walls are luxurious, with the brown wooden wallpaper gleaming in the light. The master cares more about his personal space than he does about what goes on in the rest of the manor, and the cleanliness here doesn’t even seem appropriate for such a place. The smell of lemon mixed with lavender lingers in the air, a scent I haven’t experienced in years.
The walls are adorned with many paintings featuring a variety of themes, ranging from portraits to beautiful landscapes drawn from places I have never been and will never see. The only light coming from this corridor is the lit candles hanging on the walls, almost like torches illuminating the darkness and casting unpleasant shadows around me.
I need to hurry before the master notices I’m missing.
I race through the corridor, the cold, hard stone floor numbing my feet as I worry the master is nearby. The panic rising inside me makes me want to stop, go back to him, and confess my sins, but my reluctance is stronger, and I push forward, despite the lump that wants to drown me.
I wander past his office, feeling a chill in the air as I contemplate my next move. I didn’t think this far, and my only option is to try to open the large door directly ahead, at the end of this corridor. My heart races as I hear the door open, and the sound of creaking wood fills my eardrums with dread, but as soon as I see brilliant light flood the room, my spirits soar.
I take in the sight of several trees, accompanied by the sound of a tall, humming fence, alive with electricity.Holy shit, I got out.
A calm breath escapes my body as I close the door behind me, and I huddle behind a bush, my skin bristling as the icy morning air creeps over my bare arms.
I know the others are at the front of the house, playing god knows what kind of game. The knowledge that today will bring death is a heavy burden to bear, and I find my heart aching for the person I cannot save. I just hope to god that Everlee will not be one of them. She is too vulnerable for this place.
Every morning, she wakes up with nightmares that keep her awake most of the night, and I know she barely makes it through the day. She hates breaking the rules and is too afraid of the consequences. Otherwise, I would have been more than happy to take her with me when I escaped from the master’s disgusting games.
Throughout my seventeen months here, she has become the only person in my life I care about.
The wind whistles in my ears, rustling the bushes, and I shiver as the cold stings my body. I don’t have a plan, except to sit here and wait out the game, then return before the master notices my absence.
Before I know it, a deafening sound fills my surroundings, one so loud it has my ears ringing, making my body sway, and slowly losing balance.It is a sound I’ve heard far too many times, one that evaporates through the air in a rumbling force, causing birds to flee from their spots in the trees. A rush of fear washes over me as I notice I cannot even hear my own breathing, only an echoing silence ringing in my ears.
Is that the sound of my breath or the whisper of life? Am I even alive? Shot?
The ringing finally fades away, and a loud scream rumbles through the surroundings instead. Fear wraps itself around me as I huddle against the ground, the cold seeping into my bones. I shudder and cup my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the terror.
It takes me a second to realize what the sound means, and my heart breaks a thousand times for another lost soul that deserves more than what this place has given them.
I take a deep breath, attempting to compose myself, but within moments, the loud sound of a bullet is followed by a cacophony of screaming. Automatically, tears strike my eyes. The idea of children having to endure such injustices is unbearable.
Following is another scream, a high-pitched one with pleas for survival from a child, but I know that the master enjoys that. My stomach twists in a knot. I want to give up everything, if only to be freed from all of these horrifying sounds that will remain with me forever. I want to dig my own grave right now and crawl into it before sprinkling earth over me until I die a painful death.
I know those sounds will never leave my mind. They’re forever embedded in my memory, like a tattoo that’s been branded on my brain.
They never leave.
Several gunshots are heard, with a minute interval between, followed by more heartbreaking noises that make me want to rip my ears out. And finally, a long silence settles in.
The game is over for this month.
I stand with shaky legs that feel more like slime trying to get a firmer shape. All I want to do is disappear from the end of the earth, but I have to make sure Everlee is still alive. I cannot lose her.
The house in front of me is crumbling, its façade so broken that it’s a miracle it remains standing; the walls are coated in a thick layer of mold with a strong, unpleasant odor, yet no one is doing anything about it.
Now that the game has ended, the master will wander down his hidden hallway, take a swig of his whiskey, settle down, and enjoy what happened today. It’s a routine I’ve become familiar with after studying him for months to figure out the best way to survive, and I know he will check the surveillance cameras inside his office. Fortunately for me, he never looks back at old footage, so he won’t know I was absent.
I stay close to the crumbling walls as I approach the front yard before he reaches his office. If I tried to sneak back the same way I left, he would hear my footsteps and catch me. I need to get to the parlor before he goes to his office and can see what’s on the monitor.
Grimhill Manor has plants around the grounds that were once beautiful in an attempt to make the children feel at home, but the only thing that remains now is the sickly smell of decaying flowers that have been sitting in stagnant rainwater for too long.
I have two minutes left to reach the room.
One minute is how fast it usually takes him to arrive at his office. I’ve been doing this for far too many months now, planning every step to escape as many games as possible, but not too often for him to notice. I shudder, remembering the feeling of his hard hands as he seized me while I tried to escape once.
“My precious little girl, what have you done?”
