Poets logo

The Escape

I need to get out of here.

By Adrianna XPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
Like

I need to get out of here,

this place of imprisonment.

It's dark and dreary,

and reeks of hopelessness.

I need an escape.

I need a plan.

I need a new beginning.

I search this cramped room for something,

anything,

that can get me out of here.

All that's in here are books,

filling and overflowing a chest,

and a vent on the ceiling.

I gather some books,

one by one,

and stack them.

The biggest ones are on the bottom

the paperbacks on the top.

It's wobbly

and falls down many times.

But I keep building,

trying to balance the weights

of those useless novels.

And then,

there I was,

on top of the stack,

only inches beneath the vent.

I reach up,

farther and farther,

on the tips of my toes,

trying not to fall as I do so.

I couldn't reach it.

All I needed was one more book.

But I already gathered them all.

There were no more.

But I still looked.

There was no way I was staying in here

any longer.

This place would drive me mad

if I remained any longer.

Perhaps I'm already mad.

That's when I saw it.

Under the chest that held so many books,

acting as a leg,

was a book.

Not only was it a book,

but it was a big book,

a giant book.

It was more worn than any other in the room,

and by far the biggest.

I reached under the chest to lift it up,

but it wouldn't budge.

It was so heavy.

I try again and again,

but nothing changed.

Why is this happening to me?

What did I do to deserve this?

I could recall nothing to deserve this form of torture.

I have to get that book.

I have to try again.

I position myself,

take a deep breath,

and lift with all my might.

I only raised it a bit,

and only for a second,

but it was just enough to kick the book out from underneath.

I let out a breathe and picked it up.

It was a dictionary.

A really old dictionary.

I didn't waste any time.

I climbed up my tower of books

and placed it on the top.

After hoisting myself on top,

I once again reached for the vent.

This time I got it

and it was loose.

I yanked on it hard and almost fell over.

Just as the rusted screws let go

and the vent was no longer holding me up,

I reached for the edge of the new hole.

Had I been a second late,

I would have been crushed by my tower of books,

now laying in a pile on the floor.

I reached my other arm to the the hole

and gained grip on the edge.

This was it,

I was finally getting out.

I was finally starting over.

I pulled myself up through the hole

and found myself in a dark tunnel.

At the end there was a light

and I used all the energy I had left

to get to it.

It looked so bright and warm

and the opposite of my cell.

When I finally reached the end,

there was nothing blocking my way.

It was fully open and I just stepped right out onto

the freshly cut grass.

It felt as though I could finally breathe.

There was no stench of hopelessness,

but a beautiful floral scent of hope

and happiness.

It became the best day of my life.

I got up and walked onto a dirt road,

crowded with smiling people.

There were young kids pulling their parents into a candy shop.

An elderly couple sitting on a bench feeding the pigeons.

Couples were everywhere,

of every age,

and in every stage of love.

I longed to know what that felt like.

And that's when I felt it.

That feeling like some one was watching you.

I should be scared,

it could be someone wanting to take me back to prison.

But, I wasn't scared.

There was something about this place that just seemed so safe,

so secure,

like everything ever only went according to plan.

And it was a good plan.

When I turned and saw whose eyes were watching me,

a small smile formed on my face.

It was a boy.

He was about my age

and he was beautiful

in the most unconventional way.

He seemed almost perfect

in his imperfections.

He walked up to me and introduced himself.

His voice was like music to my ears.

After I said hello,

I told him my name.

The name I just gave myself.

The name of the girl who was starting over

rather than the one who was stuck in a cell for years.

It was love at first sight,

the kind I never thought existed.

The kind that only ever happened in fairytales...

I woke up wondering where I was.

I looked around and realized that I was in my bedroom.

It was still dark, so I assumed it was still night time.

I start to shiver and reach for a blanket.

Instead my hand finds a hard object.

I pick it up and recall that it was the book I was reading last night.

I must've fallen asleep while reading it.

I should've known it was just a dream.

It was too perfect.

But it felt so real,

or maybe that was because of how much I longed for it to be real.

Still,

I should've known.

There was no way I could escape my life like that.

As if a dictionary along with other books could really save me.

They make a good temporary escape.

I'll admit that.

But once you finish a book,

you're submerged back into the real world.

The world full of disappointment.

The world that makes you regret your existence.

If only I could switch places with a character from one of my books.

If only I could escape for forever,

rather than just a moment.

If only, if only.

sad poetry
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.