Fingerprints

The Escape Artist

I heard the sounds of torture.

The person in the cell next to me was running a tin cup against the bars of the door window, just like in the movies.

The sound was pitiful... and gave me a headache. I went over to the "bed". Could you even call it that? I laid down and pulled the thin, ragged blanket over my ears to cover them.

The sound was obnoxious and aggravating my already bad headache.

It must've been morning by the time I woke up, another officer, he said his name was Levi, was taking me to breakfast in the cafeteria.

They were serving what tasted like last week's ham and cheese. It had flavor... okay, now I'm just lying. It was very bland. Then the water they gave us still had traces of the chlorine and the purifying chemicals still in it. Quite frankly, it was disgusting. If I had to eat it or nothing at all, I just won't eat, it was that bad.

Grayson stopped by again, only this time around 3:00 p.m. It was nice seeing him stop by, a friendly face when you don't know any of the other inmates. Well, I couldn't say that, I got along with Olive Brushelle... for the most part.

I stepped into the library, Grayson following me. I was really surprised the Levi or one of his buddies weren't there supervising. Not like we were going to do anything anyway.

"You really need to sort this out." Grayson noted, just as the solid wood door closed.

"Oh. You don't think I've noticed? Gray, I've been stuck in this dump for 42 hours!"

"That is why we need to get it sorted out!"

A girl, who looked like she was 15, came over to us.

"Can you stop yelling. I'm trying to create a distraction here." She put her hands on her hips, "Whoops... I'm trying to read. This is a library."

"A distraction?"

"Yeah. That's what I said."

"Who are you?" I questioned, "I haven't seen you around."

"I'm Emily. I've been here longer than you, and I spend most of my time in here."

Grayson piped up, "How old are you?"

"I'm 19, you?"

"19..."

The door opened, hitting me in my back.

"Time to go kids." Levi said, beckoning Grayson out the door.

"Bye, Tori." He winked before exiting the library.

I stood across from Emily, in awkward silence. After two minutes or so, she turned around and walked to a window on the far side of the library. I followed her.

"What are you doing?" She didn't even do much as glance back at me.

"I'm working."

Emily continued too prod on the window pane. She kept mumbling to herself, just quiet enough so that I didn't hear.

"Why..." I began, interrupted by Emily.

"I'm trying to find a good window to get out of."

"Oh..."

"I'm going to escape."

"Have you tried the upstairs windows, no one seems to patrol up there."

"That's because everyone up there is dressed as inmates like us, so they can catch the ones who try to escape from there, or try to commit suicide."

"How-how would you know that?"

"I've been watching them for about two weeks now."

"Oh." I stood there watching her.

"I think this one will work."

"For what?"

"Getting out, duh."

"Oh, right." I had forgotten that quickly. Wow, Tori, that's a new record.

Emily climbed down from the shelf she was standing on, of which looked like it was about to fall under her weight.

"Guess I'll see you around, Tori? Was it?"

"Yeah, it's Tori."

"Ok, bye Tori."

She left the room, walking in and out of the bookshelves. I heard the door close, and suddenly it got deadly silent. Even the air blowing through the vents seemed to stop, I could no longer feel the slight breeze of air circulation, nor could I hear the other people talking below me. They all stopped when Emily left the library. Why?

As I weaved in between the rows of bookshelves, making my way back to the door to leave, I got a feeling someone was watching me.

I whipped my head around to see if anything was behind me. Nothing was there. I guess it was just me being paranoid.