The doors are always unlocked at night. There are people who can come in to steal stuff, if they hit the doors hard enough. At least, that's what Apple Bloom says. But I never witnessed it for myself.
Being friends with the bar and grill's owner across the street has really helped me. I get free meals, as long as I stick around to wash the dishes and clean up the place after. Dinner there is nice, but it never helps to ease my worry about the possibility of her finding me.
Especially when I'm forced to leave after the job is done.
Now, standing here, I feel a sense of...dread, even though this place has been my home for a while now. Even as I slip through the bars of the gate and enter through the right-most door, I can't help but wonder if something bad is gonna happen.
Maybe tonight will be the night.
There's no one here, I come to realize, as I breathe a sigh of relief and begin the trek back to my home. There are tons of...homes here, usually occupied by items rather than by people. Some of it is valuable. After all, the non-valuable items wouldn't be kept under lock and key. They'd get left behind, at home, where they belong.
Like her.
I hug myself tightly, not wanting to think about it. I just wanna get home and sleep. Maybe tomorrow will be better, if I ever get hired for a job. After all, her grandmother worked five jobs to save up enough money for her life, or so she says. Even just one job would be enough to take my mind off of my current situation, because it meant I could get enough money for an actual place of my own.
When I get to the door of my home, I fish around in my pocket for the key and stick it in the lock down below, then raise the door up. All sorts of stuff greets me, or at least what I could gather before I ran away. Some clothes, some blankets, and a few other belongings. It's not much, but if I can get out of here, if I can live in an apartment of my own, I can get more stuff. Thinking about it brings me hope, but not much. Hope died along with the dignity of her.
Tears pooling in my eyes, I walk inside, close and lock the door, and settle in for yet another night of reliving the painful memories.
I'm woken up a couple hours later by the sound of heels clicking against metal. Instinctively, I hide under my blankets. I recognize the sound, but I don't recognize the muffled voices that follow it.
Panic settles in further. Has she come for me? To take me back to that wretched place? To make sure I have another chance to invoke her wrath again? What does she want? Will she find me? I can't go back there. I won't go back there. This is my home. She can't take me away from my home.
There's something else that is hitting the ground, too. Something heavy, like...a boot. It doesn't take many connecting dots to realize that whoever is here brought police with them. It has to be the police. If only...if only they knew.
If only they knew the one looking for me was an easy catch.
My body shakes. I start to cry, burying my face in the blanket to muffle my sobs and regretting not bringing some sort of self-defense tool with me. She always said I was too young to have the stuff that she has, but if I had pepper spray or a knife or a gun now...
The clicking and stomping grows closer. I force myself to stop and lift my head up for only a moment before slipping back under the top blanket and laying flat on my stomach. Maybe, if I stay really still, they'll think I'm just another valuable item here and they'll pass me right on by. Right?
...Right?
"Oh, here it is! 103," chimes a voice. "Unfortunately I don't have a key..."
"Not to worry, ma'am. Stand back, please."
My breathing is ragged, and I try to force it into a more steady rhythm. Jingling. Clanking. And then, the door opens.
Stay still. Stay quiet. She can't find you if you're still and quiet.
"All right. Aqua, Clear, search every inch of this storage unit. Find the girl."
"Yes, sir!"
It feels like I'm a lone speck in a world of monsters. I can't do anything but pray. Pray that I'm able to get out of this undetected. Pray that I'm not ripped from my home and placed into a hell run by someone doing the devil's work. Pray that-
"Clear!"
I stiffen.
"Are you just saying that, or are you calling my name?"
"Calling you. Send Rarity in. I want her to look at this."
"All right. Ma'am, could you come here, please?"
I don't know what they've spotted. It could be me, under this makeshift shelter. It could be something else. The uncertainty scares me to my core, and I can feel my heart beginning to beat faster.
"Yes, Officer Clear Day?"
"Look at this mass of blankets here. I think...there might be something there."
A gasp. "Those...they're my sister's blankets. Pull them off."
No! No, there's nothing under here! Please, just-
The top blanket is torn off, and I'm suddenly greeted by a rush of cold air that makes me shiver.
"Ah, there she is! Oh, thank goodness. Officers, is it possible I can talk to her alone?"
"Certainly. We'll be right outside."
Keeping my head down, I don't dare move. Part of my mind screams at me to turn around, because if she decides to hit me, I can at least try to fight back. But I'm too scared to stare down the beast, and so I close my eyes and prepare for the worst.
"Sweetie...are you all right? It's such a relief to see you're not hurt," she coos, in that revoltingly sweet voice spoken through a mask of nicety. "I'm sorry. Please, come home. I miss you."
Like cliched words on a play's script, acting for the small crowd of officers on the outside.
"I didn't mean to lash out at you like I did. It's just that you cause so much trouble when all I'm doing is simply trying to work, to put a steady roof over our heads and good food on the table day after day..." I can hear her voice crack, even as she lowers the volume on her next words. "Are you so selfish that you won't let a passionate and hardworking woman earn her righteous pay? Selfish enough to only think of yourself and your airheaded innocence?"
You were once a little girl too, you know. And don't tell me you didn't have "airheaded innocence". You're not as perfect as you think you are.
A sigh. "Perhaps you won't understand until you're a little older. You're still a child, after all."
I grit my teeth, a sign of outward anger. She's deliberately pushing my buttons, and to say that it isn't working would mean I'm a liar.
"But I do mean everything I say, Sweetie. You can't stay here. I won't allow it. It's so small, and so...dirty. Certainly not suitable for someone like you. Please, won't you-"
As soon as the sensation of a hand is on my face, I smack it away like a horse's tail to an annoying fly, and with adrenaline beginning to course through me, I turn around to face her. Disgustingly pristine, as usual. It's all about keeping up appearances.
"I understand you're upset. But please, don't let this be the breaking point for us. I want you to come back home."
How? By having the police take me back home when I refuse? You'd like that, wouldn't you? You sadistic, irredeemable...
My fingers grip the blanket so hard they begin to turn a bright red. I need a way out of here. There's no back door to my home, and I have nowhere else to go. If I tell her no, the police will make me say yes. And telling them what's been going on...they would never believe me. Not unless I show them the scars on my back that have never existed.
I'm running out of options. So I play one of my final gambits.
"I'll come home in the morning."
"Ah ah ah," she says in singsong, waggling her finger. "You said the same thing last time, and you were gone for three months! I won't let that happen again."
If there's one thing I hate about her, it's her smarts. She's not one to be so easily fooled.
However, there's no way for her to tell what the ace up my sleeve is.
I slowly stand up, looking at all of the belongings I was able to take with me when I left. A stinging sensation pierces my heart for a moment as I realize all that I will be losing by doing this. But as I've come to learn over the years, material objects are replaceable. I am not.
I have a backup plan specifically for this. It's time I put it in action.
"Sweetie?"
Taking a deep breath, I turn and run, pushing past the officers and bolting down the hallway as fast as my feet will carry me. I can hear the startled shouts of everyone -- the cry of my name from my sister, the orders being given to the officers. I don't stop. I can't stop.
As soon as I get outside, I have only one goal in mind: lose all of them, at all costs. I run up the hill, past the stoplight and past the gas station. I can still hear the officers behind me, at the very least, though I'm not sure how many there are. Four? Six? For a missing child, you'd think they'd have more of a force. But that doesn't matter, as long as I can get away from them.
Less than half a mile down, I make a left turn, dashing across the crosswalk without looking for cars and heading down an incline towards a neighborhood full of houses. My eyes scan for any signs of abandonment, any signs of darkness inside, any signs that read For Sale on them. Looking for anything particular would take up too much time. I need to find something now. I can hear them in the distance.
Eyeing a side street called Berry Road up ahead, I decide to head for there. I don't have time to lo-
My toes suddenly catch on a gap in the sidewalk. I go tumbling to the ground with a grunt as my mind begins to scream at me.
No! Get up, get up! They're coming! Get inside somewhere!
I spring to my feet and keep running, wincing at the scrapes on my arms and legs but trying my best to ignore them. I can deal with my wounds when I find a place.
On Berry Road, there is a house just three numbers down, with a For Sale sign in the front and a darkened interior. I head right for the door, grabbing the doorknob and twisting it with all my might.
It's open.
It's...open!
I leap inside, slam the door shut behind me, and slump to the ground. The night sky and a nearby streetlight illuminate the room, but not by much. Still, it doesn't matter if the room is dark or if the electricity happens to work. What matters is that I'm inside, and I'm safe.
The rush of adrenaline dying down, a yawn escapes me, making my body shiver slightly. Exhaustion begins to overwhelm me, and my eyes slowly close.
"Sweetie Belle! This is the Canterlot Police!"
My eyes snap open at the authoritative voice.
"We know you're in there! Come out!"
Rubbing my head in an attempt to come to, I look at my surroundings. A fully-furnished living room, lit up by the light of the morning sun. But outside...
"We have you surrounded!"
Oh...no. Nonono. They...they found me? But how? Was it because I tripped and fell? I thought I lost them...
Why didn't I do this sooner?
I recognize this scenario. It's like when a criminal holes themselves up in someplace secluded, like a house, and refuses to come out when the police order them to. What's the word...no, not "hostage situation"; I don't have a hostage...it's a "standoff", I think. That's what this is.
Only the criminal is me.
But...I haven't done anything wrong. Have I?
"Sweetie Belle! Please, come out! I promise, we won't hurt you! We just want you to come home safe and sound!"
My sister...how did she...? She wasn't running after me, was she? No...if she had been running after me, she would've used her stupid gem powers to throw up a shield to block me or something. Her words sound so disgustingly cliched that I nearly want to puke.
Instead, tears well up in my eyes and fall down my face.
I slowly stand up and turn to face the door as the reality begins to hit me. All of the other times I ran away, no one ever found me. Not my sister. Not the police. Not anyone. Not for days, weeks, months. I stayed happily in my home, working a job and saving up money to put towards a brighter future. Anything to get away from her, from the temper that flared when I did something as menial as eat a meal or go out to play with my friends.
Now, listening to the angry shouts of the police and my sister's pleading cries, I know that my freedom is running out. All of my plans have been exhausted. I can't run anymore.
My hand grips the doorknob and twists it.
A relieved expression settles on my face, to match my sister's equally.
Two characters, each playing roles for the audience.
Author's Note
I started this story in October because this was a contest I had picked to enter out of a plenitude of them, but between all of the Odd Squad stuff I never got around to writing it until now. My aim is to put stories in for all three categories, though I'm not sure if that'll pan out. We'll see. (Maybe I'll even go for Double Jeopardy this time around!)
