She moved deftly across the cold floor, placing the outer edge of her foot down first-a habit left over from her dancing days. She was careful not to place her heels on the floor for she knew they would create gentle thuds that might wake Them. The backs of her calves had soft lines where the beginning of muscle definition was. She crossed the room in seconds; she moved like the passing shadow of a car on a sunny summer day.
She let her graceful fingers curl around the cool brass. Taking a deep breath, she pressed evenly and quickly on the lever and with a scoot and a faint click she was free.
Once outside, she slipped her feet into her sneakers and zipped up her coat. She retrieved her backpack from behind the shrubbery at the side of her house and was ready to go.
She played tag with the moon on her way down the street-and won. She couldn't risk getting caught-if she were to pause a moment in the moonlight she would surely be caught.
Breathlessly, she halted, making sure no one was following her. She saw shadows darting back and forth across the sleeping lawns of her neighbors, heard the dry scrape of the dead leaves caught in the whirlwind of the crossing breeze. One of the few remaining street lamps went out and then flickered dimly. A figure materialized under the yellow light. His eyes were hidden under his protruding brow; she could tell that he was trouble. She squinted her eyes from her hiding place behind Mrs. Herald's Azalea bush, trying to focus on this threat. When she found she couldn't, she cursed herself and shook her head. When she opened her lids, he had vanished. The drugs were playing tricks on her again. No, no, it wasn't the drugs. They had stolen the drugs from her ages ago. They were playing the trick. They must know she was gone. Should she go back? If she did, she faced punishment. If she kept on going, maybe she could return without consequence. They would just be worried and not care that she left. She continued onward. She wanted to go to the park. If They were to chase her, They would never go there.
The playground was quiet as it always was after dark. After silently scaling the chain fence, she quietly slipped onto one of the swings and firmly grasped the chain links that suspended the seat in midair. Her toes pushed lightly off the ground. Before long, her hair was being tangled by the wind and she felt almost as if she were flying. The creaks and groans of the swing set grew as she kicked and flew higher and higher and higher until she started to slow.
She began to walk again once her heart had slowed. She marveled at the poetic beauty of a sleeping town; she liked the silence of the houses the encroached over tiny generic lawns. Even though the world was sleeping, it was alive. She realized how much more she could hear in the darkness. Tiny things, like a snapping branch, seemed deafening in the silent black of night.
She paused, reflecting over her last thoughts. Snapping branches. She shouldn't be hearing snapping branches. Her heart started to slam into her rib cage. They were near; They had come to find her and punish her.
