Creative Writing: Running Out

She slumped to the floor of the the cottage”. This was really big for her because she just got freed from enslavement, then she learns that she will be reminded of that everyday of her life by this slavery child.

A trickle of fear had her lying motionless with her eyes closed, straining to hear the slightest noise. A deep sigh of regret and the pressure of a body by her side made her acutely aware that she wasn’t alone.

She lays there holding her head in pain, Her eyes wide open, fear covering her features. Time flies by and suddenly minutes later she slowly and

Glancing at the man beside her, she saw him drifting in and out of sleep. She kept driving until she heard snores coming from beside her. Then she stopped the car and quietly pulled down the sun visor, where she kept her stiletto

She moves for what seems an eternity and she feels she is gaining no ground. The circles she walks have her growing weary. She drudges on anyway, her palms sweating, her heart firing rapidly against a cage of

A million thoughts running through her mind. “Get to the creek, get the bag”. The torches search the over grown field her body hot in the frosted blades that come up to her knees. Dropping to the ground chest flat to the earth her heart in her throat. “We know you’re out there” he says the panic in his voice worries her. The field suddenly becomes dark and the people are getting closer. Marching in rows like men going to war. Without another thought she is running feet stumbling one after the other. Aching knees and weak bones carry her to the edge. She reaches the wall of trees that she has forever longed to meet. She turns to see if anyone had seen her. The lights are back on and the torches are moving through the grass. She looks down at her thin pale wrist and removed a small band with ‘Renee Grace’

The scene opens up to a well light grey warehouse. It’s bare with no furniture other than a desk on the left side of the room. Behind it is AUDREY ductaped to a chair. She squirms in her chair, attempting to break free but gets nowhere. On either sides of her the same guards from the van can be seen. Behind her a grey door is closed.

As Connie got into the car she felt a wave of grief. She couldn’t get away from the invisible gates surrounding and trapping her as if she were a hunted animal. The ride seemed like a journey, going on forever and ever. Trying to pry information causally, Connie would ask Arnold ,” Where are you taking me?” Arnold just turned around and gave her that sleepy smile of his and , “Don’tcha worry ‘bout a thing honey. You are safe with me.” His smile, that reassuring yet mysterious smile quenched her longing for home and diminished the thought of how her family would think about the absence of their youngest daughter. It seemed to mask her thoughts of how how her cold mother and father would react seeing the their screen door wide open and the music that Connie listened to

Mere said that we should all sit on the floor and cover ourselves with the blankets that were hidden under our seats. Ms.Dufour and mere stayed in their seats, and the man walked up to them. I grabbed my limoge box and hugged it has I covered myself with the blanket. Mere and Ms. Dufour showed him a paper and told him where we were going, then the man backed away from the carriage and told mere and Ms. Dufour to continue driving.

What are they doing?” I think to myself again. Two of the people I noticed while we turned onto this street are stumbling toward Ben’s car. They are both carrying a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Their clothes are baggy, and their pants are sagging below their butts. Their baseball caps are turned sideways. I lock my doors and continue to panic. I can hear the guys yelling at Ben, threatening him. The longer we sit here and the louder the men at Ben’s window become, the more obvious it becomes they are not sober. This fact sends me into an even deeper level of stress. At this point it becomes abundantly apparent that my car is a rag top convertible. “One of these guys could easily come cut my roof open and get me,” I think to myself as my stress and fear completely take over my thoughts. I can barely breathe at this point. I still cannot figure out why Ben is still sitting here, and why he does not just drive away. They are telling him to get out of the car now. I knew had a bad feeling about this little

The brunette gave a muffled sigh as she stood in the rain, the droplets trickled down her leather jacket, taunting its warmth. Her fingers curled around the hood of the old beaten fiesta and lifted it, taking a quick check. Nothing stood out. Then again, Amelia had never been good with vehicles. She knew she should have sold this car by now but it had so many memories, that old tainted blue paint job, it was just another good memory. Raising her right arm, she brushed away the leather sleeve to notice the time, she cursed audibly. Her first job with a new partner and she was already running late let alone getting to the scene. Not willing to waste any more time Amelia stepped out into the road, hailing a passing cab. There was nothing more embarrassing than turning up at a crime scene in a cab but what else could she do?

Beside her, he sits, driving along the mountain road. The music from the radio is embracing them, but is unable to drown out the hatred in that very moment. His eyes continuously flicker over towards her, checking on her. She seethes beside him, refusing to make eye contact. Quickly, he reaches across the car, capturing her hand in his. She pulls back, but he stays headstrong, refusing to release her hand. Their hands collide with the passenger side window, pulling him out of his seat slightly, but enough. The car slides, colliding with the guardrail. Together they plummet.

The silver SUV hits a final bump and screeches to a halt. Agent Higgins shoves open his door and I follow suit. Guns at the ready but pointed downwards, we run smoothly after the other agents; the car doors are left open and the sirens blaring. I run across the dusty ground, my eyes constantly moving, searching the warehouse for any sign of movement; so far there is none. Agents spread out on either side of the door, leaving Higgins and a SWAT man standing right beside it. Higgins signals to the SWAT man, indicating he should wait.

She drives away and the man follows her. As she drives, she comes upon a house that she hides in. Sooner than later, another man, Ben, enters the house. He confronts her, asking if she is okay, and she doesn’t respond due to shock. Ben then begins to board up the house.

As I walk out to the corner of the driveway to Jillian’s car, I hear the jingle of the keys on her lanyard, like the jingle of bells on Santa’s sleigh. I slightly push the key as it glides into the ignition. I turn the key away from me until I hear the roar of the engine starting like an angry lion at the zoo. I scan through the radio stations until I find a song I like. Jillian opens the door, and gets in. The gravity from the hill that the car is parked on causes the door to slam shut. As we pull out of the driveway, Jillian asks, “Where are we going first?”