Escape From Insanity

After being imprisoned for two years in her own home, 16 year old Emma decides that it's time to take control of her life.

Chapter 1

Prison Break

My mother smiled at me and gently placed her hand on my shoulder. “Emma, it’s all going to be okay. I love you,” she said slowly. My mother always spoke very softly and slowly to me. Even though I’d been "naughty", as usual, she didn't seem angry. That was her way of "helping" me. In her mind, it was me who needed help. However, I was angry. I hated the feeling of the duck tape that stuck to my lips. I hated that I couldn’t just rip it off because my wrists were bound to a chair by tight ropes that scratched and burned my skin. I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek. Although I used to surprising them, that one managed to escape. I looked away from her dark brown eyes and around the room; down at the faded white carpet, which was hardly even white, up at the peeling floral wallpaper, at the row of porcelain dolls on my sticker-covered wooden dresser, and at the twin bed. None of this was fair. I longed to speak, but she wouldn’t allow me to. My life was hers. She taken everything away from me. She began stroking my hair.

“It’s okay, honey. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here.” She could no longer see me, though. I had become invisible. She looked right at me, but she just saw a broken toy. Broken. All she could see were the cracks in my skin.

“Are you ready for your punishment to be over?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. Her straight blond hair moved behind her shoulders. I was glad that I didn't look much like her. I nodded vigorously.

“That’s a good girl,” she said, this time speaking to me as if I were her pet. She took her pocket knife and cut the ropes. Then she quickly removed the duck tape from my mouth, and it stung a bit afterward. I looked down at my wrists, which were red from all of the rope burns.

“What did you learn?” she asked, sounding much like my kindergarten teacher, who I never liked, either. She asked me that every time after my hour in the chair.

“I-I’m safer here w-with you. I should n-never a-ask you if I can go back to normal sc-school again,” I said shakily. She nodded in approval, as if her approval was all that I had ever wanted. That may've been true before the accident, but now I just wanted a way out. However, I wasn't one to sit and wish to be rescued. Not any more. I knew for sure that I needed to do something for myself, before it's too late. I had plans, and she couldn't stop me.

"It's time for you to go to bed," she said, still sounding like that awful kindergarten teacher. After I got in bed, she left the room, thinking that I was going to go to sleep. However, I wasn't. I lied awake, staring at the white ceiling, waiting until she was sound asleep. When I heard the loud snoring from the end of the hallway, I knew that it was time to leave.

I grabbed my backpack off of my bed and headed down the stairs. I made sure to only walk along the sides, for the centers were creaky, and I couldn't risk making a sound. I tiptoed down the black and white staircase and stopped by the alarm. I didn’t think that anyone would come to rob my mother in the middle of the night, so I shut off the alarm and headed into the basement. I could hardly see through the darkness, but couldn’t risk turning any lights on. I could make out the worn, black leather sofa, the old scratched up cat toys and many large containers. We no longer entered the basement. Ever. It reminded my mother too much of our cat, Dotti, which she had beaten to death. I could almost hear her faint purr. She would always cling to my side when she got scared.

I decided to stop thinking about Dotti and continue my escape mission. Most would call it running away, but it seemed like a prison break more than anything else. After slowly inching toward the backdoor, I opened it and stepped outside. After walking up the steps, I just stood on the porch for a while. Outside. I could hardly believe it. I was outside! I rushed to the yard and just ran around for a while. Some may call it childish, but it felt wonderful. I felt free. I didn't care about the extremely tall grass which brushed against my pants. I didn't care about the unbearably cold air. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths of the fresh air, before running around a bit more. I suddenly stopped, realizing that I needed to leave. With that, I sighed and slowly walked to the front of the house. Before leaving, I turned around and looked at that stone structure. It was the place where some of my best and worst memories taken place, and I was saying goodbye to it. It wasn’t a heartfelt sentiment. It was but a simple wave.

I sighed and said, “Good riddance, my prison!”

I began walking to the third nearest bus stop. It was a long walk past mostly houses, a school and a park, but I didn’t want my mother to find me.

“This is the rest of my life,” I thought.

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