I can’t do this anymore. I’m going crazy. I have to get out. Two weeks I’ve been planning my escape, and I get a pit in my stomach every time I think about it. Part of me says I’ll get out safely. The other part says I’m screwed if I try it. This time though, I’m not backing out. I can’t. I’ve got the pipe and I’ve got my plan, and now I’m ready. 

I was foolish to fall for their stupid trick, and I blame myself for getting stuck in this situation. I should have ignored the screams and I should’ve kept walking. These people are sick to do what they’ve done. No, I can’t think like that right now. It’s time to make them pay for what they’ve done to me and God knows how many others. 

The door creaks open. He’s coming down and I’m standing up. His heavy footsteps make the stairs creak under his weight until he reaches the final step. I charge at him and whack him with the pipe. The rusty pipe shatters as soon as it makes contact with his head. Blood spews out of his mouth as three cracked teeth fall to the floor, the crimson surrounding him. I stare in horror and shock as he crashes to the floor. I just did that, oh god. When I finally get my feet to move, I sprint up the stairs and out the door. He yells and I run as fast as I can. 

The air is freezing and I can’t see through the thick fog. I blindly continue to run anyway, the sound of his footsteps running after me. My breath is coming out fast and uneven. My lungs are burning and my feet ache, but I keep pushing myself. The footsteps slow down and then stop until the only sound are my footsteps. I turn around for just a second, hoping they’ve given up.

My foot catches on a rock and I go flying forward. I’m not met with the solid ground I’m expecting. Instead, I go flying down the hill, and I keep rolling until I’m submerged in water. I pull myself to the surface, gasp for air, and cough up the water that has made its way into my lungs. After a few minutes I finally get enough air into my lungs to breathe normally. 

I stand up on shaky legs, shivering from the cold breeze, looking around at my surroundings. My eyes dart back and forth looking for any sign of movement. I listen intently for anything at all, but all I can hear is my uneven breathing and my pounding heart. I stay like this until I’m sure it’s safe to move, but when I try to move I fall back down. I pull myself into a sitting position and realize I sprained my ankle.

I’m cold, alone, and I have no idea where I am. My breath hitches and a few tears fall from my eyes. I quickly brush them away, willing myself to be strong. I take a deep breath and pull myself out of the pond and sit on its bank. I glance at my surroundings, again figuring out what my best move is. I sigh and slowly pull myself to my feet and begin to limp through the woods. As I walk, I glance around me to make sure I’m alone. The pain in my ankle becomes more intense the more I walk until it forces me to stop. I sit on an old, dark tree stump that’s covered in moss. 

Still shivering from being drenched, I hear leaves crunching in the distance. My breath catches in my throat. My heart speeds up faster, waiting to see what comes out. A twig snaps and more leaves crunch as I force my body to move up the steep hill. I make it up the hill after a huge effort and see light in the distance. I run as fast as my ankle will allow me, and the sound of footsteps once again fills my ears. 

The light gets closer until I realize it’s the headlights of a car. I wave my arms trying to get their attention and the car finally slows down until it comes to a stop right beside me. The tinted window rolls down and I freeze. A pair of hands grab me. I struggle as much as I can, a sharp pain hits the back of my head, my vision fades, and numbness takes over my body.