Bringing Amber Home

Chapter Six

The next morning, I wake up to the sounds of nothing. No, howling wind, no footsteps or any sign of human life, no cooking sounds coming from downstairs, nothing. I rub my eyes and sit up in bed. I listen a little closer for even the slightest sound of anything but nothing reaches my ears. I look around the room to see that a fresh pitcher of water was brought up to my room. Probably Connor's doing. I have no way to tell what time it is but it's light outside, the room a little brighter today than normal. I'm guessing the sun finally broke through today against the clouds. It's about time. My eyes no longer hurt and I'm sure that I'm probably no longer sick. My nose has cleared up and my head feels fine. My throat still feels a bit scratchy but other than that, I feel great. I would feel better if I wasn't in a strange house full of strange people keeping me hostage in the middle of nowhere but under the circumstances, I feel alright.

I stretch my soar muscles and feel them relax. I sit for a second. I wonder if it would be wise to walk around the room a bit or even get out of bed. I start thinking about going to the door to see if I can hear anything from there. I know that someone's footsteps would give me enough warning to run back to bed and pretend to be asleep. Even if someone was going near the stairs, that was more than enough time to fake being still deep in my slumber. I decide that I'll see what I can hear through the door without thinking twice about it. What harm could come from that? I push the sheets off of me, only now noticing that someone put a second blanket on top of the thin white one I already had. I don't meditate on it, I quickly get up from the bed and over to the door, quietly. I lean my head against the door and listen closely, my ears working overtime. The result is the same. Nothing but still air and the sounds of only my breathing and nothing else. Not a TV or a clock or even the air conditioner. Silence. Ear ringing, dead silence. I wonder where everyone is. In the past six or seven days I've been here, the house has never been so quiet before. There was always something making noise. Whether it was pans slamming together in the kitchen or the sound of someone else's breathing. It seems unnatural for the house to be this quiet, especially since I'm here, the whole reason why any of us are here. I back away from the door and back to the bed and sit down. I notice my boots next to the nightstand and slip them on. I wait. I don't know what for but I do. What else is there to keep me busy? There's no doubt in my mind that the door is locked, probably dead bolted by now. And I don't exactly feel like calling for someone to let me use the restroom just to see if anyone but me is still alive. And the window. . . the window. After all this time, I never thought to check how well the boards were nailed in. How could I be so stupid?

I get up from the bed and walk over to the boarded up window. I start with the bottom board and pull at it. The nails stay put but at least one of them is loose. The one above that has been freshly nailed in, the nails shiny and gleaming and not rusting like some of the others. The third board is a mix, some rusted and some new, but when I pull at it, two nails come loose and threaten to pop right out of the wood. The fourth board has no hope, I can tell just by looking at it that it would break in two pieces if I pried it off, the wood having the issue of being weak. the fifth board gives me no problem, it's too high to keep me inside if I where to climb out. I want to make a break for it now, rip off all the boards, jump out of the window and run for it, not bothering to look back even just to curse the place. But I know that without knowing where I'm at or even where to go from here, I'd get lost especially now that I know that the house is surrounded by trees that could easily hint at a forest being around here somewhere. I decide that it'd be best for me to wait, however frustrating it may seem, until I can at least learn which direction to head in to hopefully find a highway or another house somewhere nearby. Or even just a place far enough away from here that I can hide out until it's safe to venture on.

I sit back down on the bed and stare at the window. One day I'll climb out of the window and run like my life is on the line, practically because it is. It doesn't matter how or what I have to do in order to escape, I'm finding my way back home and out of this captivity. That's a promise. I'm not about to give up hope just because it seems like the most reasonable thing to do in this situation. If I have to do this without anyone's help, then so be it. I'm not giving up. They can't break me.