INK: Abstraction by Bella Roccaforte Read Free Book Online

rigid
it takes a long time to saw through and I make several cuts on my
wrists in the process. I doubt I’ve done more than just a
series of shallow cuts, but they sting like a bitch from my sweating.
I’m rewarded when I hear the snapping of that last bit of
plastic that was hanging on. There's relief in knowing I'll be able
to sit up and stop breathing in the grass clippings and dirt on the
floor.
    There are some pretty
deep cuts on my hands and wrists, but I think I’m going to make
it. I make quick work of the ties on my ankles and run for the door
with the knife still clasped tightly in my hand.
    First I listen at the
door for any noise on the other side. There’s nothing but the
sound of crickets. Peeking out the crack between the door and wall
reveals a house. There are no lights on or any movement.
    Even though there’s
a chill with the disappearance of the sun, sweat is dripping down my
brow into my eyes. I wipe it away, and even in the darkness I can
tell that I’m bleeding from my wrist and the blood is running
down my hand.
    Satisfied that it's as
safe as it's going to get, I pull on the door handle. It doesn’t
move. Shit. It must be locked from the outside. Peering through the
crack again I see there’s a clasp that I’m assuming is
locked. I look at the window, trying to estimate if I can get out of
it. That’s big enough for me to fit through, I just have to get
up there. I drag the chair over to the window and pry it open. I try
to pull myself up and out, but I don’t have the strength. Think, Shay .
    The moon offers a dim
gray hue, which isn’t much through the small window. I’m
able to see some wood and a few boxes. Depending on how heavy they
are I might be able to bring them over and stack them on the
workbench just below the window.
    The first box I try is
too heavy. With all my strength I push it over, revealing an
automotive ramp. Yes! Something metal clanks on the floor, a
machete. I look up toward the heavens— thank God for last
call in Heaven. About time that bitch quit drinking.
    The ramp is made of
plastic. It’s still heavy, but I can lift it. I put it under
the window on the bench, retrieve the machete and climb up on the
chair, to the bench. I throw the machete out the window away from the
shed and climb out after it, landing hard in the bushes. The thud
feels so loud and shocks my body. After grabbing the machete I stay
on the ground until the pain subsides a little.
    I slink around the
shed, thinking how happy I am that I was wearing black so I’ll
be hard to spot. I’m assuming that is Glass’ house and
there’s no safety there. Terror shoots through me at knowing
that I have to get away from here, as far and as fast as I can. I run
for the tree line like the devil himself is chasing me. I push
through the pain, cutting the vines of jasmine and brambles to make
my way as fast as I can. I’m not sure how far I’ve gone,
but I haven’t seen another house since I left Glass’. My
energy is waning fast. I know I need to rest, but the fear of getting
caught moves me forward. Without any idea of where I’m going I
try to keep my eye on the moon. I know in the spring it rises in the
east and sets in the west. I’ve been going away from the moon
until it was right above me and now I will travel toward it. That’s
how I know I will be traveling away from Glass’ house. I do
hope I run into some sort of civilization soon.
    As much as I still wish
I were running faster my pace is slower the more tired I get. Now I’m
using the machete to lean on for support. It’s tempting to just
stop and rest, I could do that, I could rest.
    “ Yes, my love,
you could stop and rest. ” The air goes colder as a voice
whispers and I feel a breath pass my ear.
    Immediately I’m
frozen in place. Slowly I turn around looking for the source of the
voice. I see nothing and take a tentative step forward.
    “ You’re
so tired, let me hold you. ” The oily voice sounds again.
    “No, I