I feel sick.
I want to go home.
It’s easily past midnight. The place is eerily silent. I can’t sleep—I won’t sleep. I wonder how many other girls they have in this place against their will. Have those kids been here since they were born? Are their parents here? Were they taken without anyone knowing? Did they join? I have so many questions and so few answers.
The door clicks and I press the pillow to my chest, my heart pounding. The door opens and a second later, Hayley appears with a small lantern in her hands. I leap off the bed and rush over. “Hayley, what are you doing here?”
“I want to go,” she says softly. “I want to go.”
My heart pounds. “Okay. Okay, honey. You have to show me how to get out of here.”
She nods, and her face is so panic-stricken I want to take her into my arms and hold her tightly, but I can’t. I will, though. We must be smart of the time we have together to plan our escape. When we get out of here, I’ll make sure she has a chance. I’ll make sure she’s okay.
“Come on. We don’t have long,” she whispers.
I follow her out into the shed, and she peers around the corner before waving me on. We run across the wooden floors and out the door. There are no people around, but the fire is still crackling, creating light. A tent lit with strings of small lights can be seen to our left, and voices can be heard softly speaking. They’re still awake in there. Hayley pauses and glances towards the gate.
“They might hear us,” she says, so softly I barely hear us.
“Turn the light out.”
Her eyes flash with fear.
“It’ll be okay. Trust me,” I say, reaching out and offering my hand. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
She hesitates, staring at my hand, then she reaches forward cautiously and takes it. I curl my fingers around hers gently, and she flinches. Poor, poor girl. I pull her towards the gate, slowly, and we move out of the camp and into the darkness. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and I can see the exit. I know it’s close.
But then Hayley changes her mind.
Another moment that defines our paths.
She lets go of my hand and cries, “I can’t do this. I’ll be punished. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Hayley,” I say, trying to keep my voice low. “Please, I know you’re scared, but—”
“No,” she shrieks. “HELP!”
God dammit.
“Hayley, I won’t hurt you,” I say, reaching for her hand again.
“Don’t touch me,” she cries. “No. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”
“It’s okay. Please believe I won’t hurt you.”
“Who’s out there?” a voice calls.
I look in the direction of the tent lit with lights, and see five men stomping out of the entrance. Then I look to the gate. I have seconds. Hayley is backing away. I need to get out of here.
“I’ll come back for you, Hayley. Please know that you’re better off out of this place, but I won’t force you. I do promise to help you, though.”
“She’s running away,” she screams.
My heart breaks for her, because I know deep down in her soul, she wants to come with me but whatever she’s seen happen to those who disobey in this place terrifies her far more than taking the risk to leave.
I turn and run.
I charge towards the gate, my heart pounding, my body on full alert. I know it’ll be locked. I reach it and rattle it a few times to see if I can make a gap big enough to squeeze through, but I can’t. Voices yell behind me and the sounds of feet pounding can be heard. Lights flash in my direction. There is only one way out.
I have to climb.
I throw myself onto the fence and start moving upwards. A hand curls around my ankle and for a second, I lose my balance, and I’m sure I’m going to fall. I kick out, screaming in frustration as I’m jerked downwards. No. I have to get out of here. I kick again, this time hitting something. An oomph can be heard and then a thud on the ground.
Please don’t let that have been Hayley.
I climb faster and the voices behind me get closer. I reach the top of the fence and hesitate for a split second at the barbed wire. This is going to do some damage. I glance behind me and see three men approaching the base of the fence. “Get the keys, hurry, hurry!” the tallest of the men yells to the others.
No keys.
A few minutes, if I’m lucky.