Plan of Escape

That was just one of the years in my life when I seemed to be experiencing suffering on a regular basis.

I keep thinking back to my most recent birthday. The scars on my arms brought back these traumatic memories for me. With the same date and a new year behind me, I now look back and see how weak and pitiful I was.

No one seemed to hear my plea. I’ve been desperately asking for help for my entire life, but nobody seems willing to help me. The only thing on my mind after all of those traumatic events was that I was the only one who could help myself. Just like the princess in the books who waits for her kryptonite, I’m not going to be like that. I am my own hero. If no one can help me, then I’ll stand for myself. I’ll do whatever it takes to save myself from drowning.

I stared at my father, who was drunk and lying on the bed. If last year he hadn’t let me out, now he can’t do anything because, with the amount of alcohol he drank, he definitely wouldn’t know I was leaving.

I left our home in just a simple shirt and a pair of jeans. My face was touched by the sun, and the cold air's breeze soothed my long-suffering heart.

For some, this might have been just another day, but for me, this day is different, like a wind that’s not noticeable but exists, or a ray of sunlight that’s always been there. I am here.

Since I came out again a few months ago, there have been some noticeable changes. I cast my eyes over the busy street. I resembled a lost fish in a big ocean.

I had been waiting for this day, so I spent weeks planning what I would do to make it worthwhile. In order for Father to fall asleep the entire time I was away, I made sure he would drown in alcohol.

Every movement I make feels like a spontaneous gesture. I'm restricted to a few areas of our home, so I consider each step an accomplishment. Seeing the cars and all the vendors on the side of the streets makes my heart so happy. They are all occupied with their own activities, which is something I have been deprived of all my life.

"Aww!" I groaned in slight pain when someone bumped into me.

"Sorry." The deep voice uttered. I didn’t see that person's face.

I rushed past the man and made a small bow. I adjusted my cap so nobody would see me. My heart was racing, and I had to take slower steps.

Damn. I temporarily forgot who I was. I shouldn't have permitted myself to become so easily sidetracked.

I'm still paralyzed by fear. Although I managed to escape my father today, I lacked the courage to go for a walk outside. They could see me, the authorities. I won't ever be free again if that takes place for the rest of my life. Additionally, being locked up eliminated my chance to see the mother.

As soon as I opened the door to my final stop for the day, the door chime started to ring. I had anticipated a change, but nothing has changed here.

"Good afternoon, Lulu." I greeted.

She seemed a little confused, as I noticed her eyes squinting. She appeared to be focused on my identity. I shook the cap off my head and gave her a small smile. Her eyes widen, and she releases the books she's holding when she finally realizes who I am.

"Jesus! Is that you, Alia? "

I chuckled lightly.

She approached me while still appearing to be in shock. I gave her a nod. She appeared older, and her wrinkles became more apparent.

She asks, her voice drained, "What took you so long?"

I turned my head away and went inside. I grinned as I looked around.

"Long story, Lulu."

I snorted and briefly closed my eyes. I overlooked this. Everything—the location, the books, etc.

"No, explain what happened this time."

I fixed my eyes on hers. Her eyes were clearly concerned, while she maintained the same expression. I've long recognized that this is just how people are. People experience a range of emotions, including sadness, joy, rage, and disgust. But I'm still baffled by all those feelings.

"I’m fine, Lulu. Be unconcerned about me. I'm okay, alive, and still kicking."

Her lips parted, like she still had something to say but decided not to just speak up.

Apart from my father, Lulu is the only person I know, so she is very important to me. She is the owner of this library. Since then, this library has served as my haven. The few times I've been here, she already knew who I was. I don't come here often, but every time I do, I always leave something behind. She is aware of some things about me, such as the fact that my father abuses me. But that's all there is to it.

After an hour, she asked me, "Are you sure you don't want to tell me, Alia?"

She gave me a cup of hot cocoa. I look at the plain hot chocolate drink with amusement in my eyes. That beverage has warmed my heart. These seemingly insignificant things mean a lot to me, such as getting hot chocolate today.

"What brought you here? Did you flee from your father again? "

I gave her a look. She surrendered, taking a deep breath out. She likely believes that I am not interested in speaking with her. She was aware that I would refuse to answer any questions she might ask.

"You do realize that I'm always willing to offer help to you, Alia? You can easily get rid of your father if you just tell me about it. You won't go to jail, I'm sure, as long as he's—"

"I'm planning my escape, Lulu." I cut off her words with a monotone voice.

I grinned while holding the hot chocolate cup. I heard her sigh faintly. I understand her reaction. She was aware of my fear of fleeing from my father. In the event that I ever managed to escape, she was aware of all the repercussions, and it really shocked me to hear that word in me.

She stumbled and said, "Y-you're planning to escape?"

I smiled and nodded."Wouldn't it be better if I ran away?"

She arched her brows.

"He is still my father, Lulu, and it’s not that easy for me to accept if he’s going to jail," I added.

She sighed heavily, expressing her concern and doubt about my plans.

That little crack of respect, that personal space that no one had given me since then, the fact that I never heard anything from her about my condition—that was a big deal for me.

"Alia, will you visit us again?" She inquired after I bid her farewell.

After three hours of being out, I'm confident that my father will wake up before I arrive. I fixed my gaze on her. I was at a loss for words with her. But her motherly, anxious face makes me feel guilty.

I replied, "I'll try."

She put the scarf around my neck while sighing.

"Alia, take care," she said in a trembling voice.

As I made my way home, I thought about Lulu. She does not know me well enough to worry about me in that way, nor is she a blood relative. But why does she care so much for me?

And then, after some time, I understood. When you are finally treated well, you will doubt that kindness because you are unsure if you deserve it and because this is a new experience for you. You'll doubt the benefits you merit.

I looked at the car outside our home while holding the lone book in my hand. I had trouble breathing. It’s been so long since the last time I experienced fear. That emotion had long since left my memory. Yet, seeing that car in front of our house made me uncomfortable.

My father's troubled demeanor was obvious as soon as I walked through our front gate. He's moving in front of the man back and forth, and when I saw him, his eyes started to light up. I stared at the man seated on the wooden chair while holding the book close to my chest.

"Alia! Finally, my daughter is here, Mr. Evans. " My father spoke in relief.

Once again, I felt a strange fear. Fear that I hadn't felt for a long time now.