Clash

The Escape

The sound of clanging metal reverberates in the empty room multiple times. I wait patiently wondering when the cause of the sound will cease. I shift uncomfortably on my mattress almost falling off the twin bed.

The clanging begins again echoing in the room but this time louder than previously. The sound repeats repeatedly over and over again. I try to not let my anger show and yell or throw a tantrum, but something triggers me when I shift on my bed to face a man with blue shiny hair.

He stands tall, more muscular than the last time I've seen him. His sweater wraps tightly around his torso and his sweatpants hang low. I try to not look any further when realization hits me.

Martin Chase, the whole reason I am in here to begin with. The person I used to call a brother, a mentor, a best friend.

The memories start flowing in a spiral in mind and I'm surrounded. The flashbacks overwhelm me I fall to the hardwood floor. Long overgrown tangled hair covers hair my deformed face. I try to be strong and look him in the eyes and talk to him, but my head stays in this position.

Tears sting at my eyes trying to fall out,but my body will not allow it. Instead my body turns to its default emotion. Anger.

I get up from my position and look around for any weapon in the cell. Martin looks at me curiously trying to fathom what the hell I'm doing. Next to where the toilet is located there is my guitar. I look carefully until and idea hits me.

I race over to the guitar and break a part of it so the body has pointy part facing away from my body. I grab it quickly screaming as I try to collide the weapon with Martin's chest, The sharp part lightly pokes his skin before a guard grabs me from behind.

The guard struggles keeping me still and I use that to my advantage and bite his arm and he lets go screaming in agony.

Martin looks at me in pure fear and makes an attempt to leave my cell. As he starts to run I jump on him making his face collide with the floor. I see the blood dripping from his forehead.

Straddling him my fist hits his back quickly and powerfully, each punch earning a groan from him until a sharp pain hits my neck. He tries to get me off of him, but I am too strong. Dizziness starts to overcome me and I turn around and see a guard with a needle in his hand.

I start to have tunnel vision until the anger starts boiling inside me making my vision return to normal. I growl at the guard and swiftly kick his leg making him trip and drop to the ground hard.

I scan the room and see that Martin and the guard are both knocked out. I quietly walk over to where Martin is and grab the the piece of paper he is clutching onto.

I try to read the text ,but like any other time I only can make out few words very well Victory Ann Chase.

I stuff the note in my pocket knowing the writer must need something from me and grab my black duffel bag that's been under my bed for over five years.

Searching the bag my hands come across a photo of a girl. The girl had black hair almost butt length. She wore a tacky sweater with christmas trees sewn poorly onto it. Her face was in a big smile posing with one hand on her hip in front of a staircase. I try to look away from the picture, but something about her eyes wouldn't let me.

The hazel eyes shined too brightly and held something I haven't seen in over five years. Hope. Hope that she god will overcome her medical condition and disorder. Hope that the bullying will be stopped. Hope that people would see her as their equal,not a nuisance. Hope that her parents would come back to her. Hope that she would have the overcome this obstacle and achieve happiness once again.