Will I Be Able to Escape This Time?

Rushing to the bedroom I yanked my backpack out from under the tall bed where it had been concealed in the dark corner formed by the wall and the heavy nightstand. Why hadn’t I left when I first started having doubts? What made me stay even after this house started to feel like a prison?

Shaking my head to clear away these thoughts I looked in the bag to make sure everything I needed was still there. It was this type of reflection that prevented my escape last time. I couldn’t let myself fall into that trap again. I needed to leave and I needed to do it immediately. Fortunately I had left everything in the pack when I had hidden it, the clothes, toiletries and my laptop shoved haphazardly together. I zipped it closed and raced down the stairs.

Spotting the kitchen I thought to throw some food on top of the clothes in my bag. I grabbed a box of protein bars, a bag of pretzels, two apples and a banana. It wouldn’t last long but at least it was something.

Just before I dashed out the door, I remembered something else. He kept cash in an envelope in the freezer. I had always found that a little strange. For some reason he thought that was the safest place, as if the refrigerator wouldn’t burn in a fire. I jerked open the freezer door and quickly found the neat little bundle of money. I didn’t stop to count it, shoving it into the small front pocket of my backpack as I hurried back to the front door.

With my hand on the knob I stopped suddenly as I heard a car door slam. This couldn’t be happening again. Looking around in a panic I frantically tried to form a plan. Nearly hysterical I spotted the French doors at the back of the house, and ran in that direction, almost tripping on the fluffy white area rug covering the white tile floor between the entryway and the kitchen.

Regaining my balance I pulled on the handle of the back door, only to find that it was locked. Frustration gripped me as I heard his keys rattle near the front of the house. Blinded by tears and fear I twisted the deadbolt until I could finally open the door.

Stepping out into the bright sunshine I paused to close the door quietly. I didn’t want him to hear the door shut. I needed a head start before he tried to follow, because I knew in my heart he would come after me when he realized I was gone.

My escape had been pure serendipity, but I could only hope that my luck would hold out long enough for me to get away for good.

This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Serendipity and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a continuation of the following post:
How Could I Fail to See Who He Truly Was?

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