Escaping

I knocked on the door repeatedly, calling out for help, but no one answered. I felt overwhelmed and exhausted. My hand was sore from hitting the door repeatedly. I sat down on the floor and cried, thinking about the happy memories I shared with my mother and how much I missed her. I couldn't understand why my father blamed me for her death.

It was on a Thursday afternoon I was waiting for my mom to come pick me up from school, it was getting really dark and I was getting scared, I heard sirens and a police car pulled up and stopped in front of me,

"hello are you miss Naomi"

"Yes sir"

" please follow me, I'll take you home"

" ok but why is my mom not coming"

" I'm sorry miss Naomi but your mom had a car crash while coming here, she currently in the hospital"

I was shaking from shock, no it can't be not my mom

" please can you take me to the hospital instead" I pleaded

" I'm sorry but you can't go there now"

Upon arriving home, I was greeted by my father who was sitting at the entrance of our house. The policeman dropped me off and left. I ran to meet my father, but instead of a warm embrace, he pushed me away. I didn't understand why at the time, but I assumed he was deeply heartbroken. The following day, I yearned to see my mother at the hospital, but my father forbade me from going. He went alone. I waited at the entrance, hoping for good news upon his return. However, the look on his face was enough to tell me that she had passed away. I was devastated that I didn't get to see her one last time.

Ever since that day my father's attitude towards me changed for worse as he constantly blamed me.

I looked down at the bruises on my body, I realized I had neglected them. I crawled to my first aid kit, carefully cleaned the wounds, and covered them. The sky was turning dark, and I was starving, but my locked door prevented me from getting any food. I dragged myself back to the door and screamed for help, but no one responded.finally I heard footsteps and then then the rustling of keys and my door opened, the witch walked in with a plate in her hand

" here is your food and stop banging on the door"

Oh the witch was kind enough to bring me some food, I thought she planned on letting me die in here, after dropping it off, she left and locked the door behind her. I was now a prisoner in my own home, wondering how long they planned to keep me there. Upon opening the plate, I discovered that she had reduced my ration. As I ate the food with tears streaming down my face, my heart felt heavy, and I struggled to eat without crying. Despite my tears, I was still hungry, so I continued eating while the drops of tears kept falling into the food. After finishing my meal, I placed the plate on the floor near the door and retreated back to the bathroom, as I was already drenched in sweat, mucus, and tears.

I turned on the shower and sank into the bathtub, tears streaming down my face. I cried my heart out, letting go of the pain, betrayal, and trauma that had been weighing me down. I remained there for an hour before retreating to my room to lie down on my bed. As the night wore on, the world around me began to blur and fade. My eyelids grew heavy, and I felt myself drifting into a deep and peaceful slumber. The soft hum of the air conditioning and the gentle rustle of the curtains were the only sounds that remained, lulling me into a state of serenity. My breathing slowed, and my body relaxed as I surrendered myself to the sweet embrace of sleep. The darkness enveloped me, and I was lost in a sea of tranquility, free from the worries and cares of the waking world.

The following morning, I rose early to prepare for school. I had to write my final exam, and I was determined not to be late. I showered, brushed my teeth, and packed my bag with all the necessary items. As I reached for the door handle, I realized that it was locked. Confusion set in, and then the memories of yesterday came flooding back. I was stuck, and I knew that if I left the house, I would be killed if I should set foot in the house again but I also knew that I would be killed if I didn't leave now and stayed . I had to make a choice, and so I packed a bigger backpack with clothes, a blanket, books, and other important items. I knew that I had to leave, but the only way out was through the locked door. I took out my hairpin and picked the lock, and fortunately, it opened. I tiptoed down the hall and stairs, and went into the kitchen first. I opened the fridge and took out all the snacks, and then I saw my dad's wallet on the table. I opened it and saw some cash, which I took. I looked at the house one last time, knowing that I would never return, and then I opened the door and left.

Fortunately, my final exam was scheduled for that morning. I pedaled my bicycle with all my might to get to school on time. I arrived just in time for the exam to begin. As I sat down to write, I struggled to focus as my heart raced with anxiety. Despite the challenge, I managed to complete the exam, and a wave of relief washed over me. While my classmates celebrated, I knew that I had to run away, but I was happy that I wouldn't have to go back home in fear. I made my way to the bus stop and hopped on a bus bound for an unknown destination. I didn't know what the future held, but I was confident that I would survive, as I always had.