Escape (2 page)

            Pushing these thoughts aside, she pulled down the dried pasta noodles and tomato sauce from the pantry.

            As she prepared the stove and water for boiling, Amelia wondered if things could have been different. Maybe if she didn’t spend so much time at home and out with friends, she would be happier. Perhaps if she used that credit card her parents gave her, she could buy nice clothes and do fun things like they insisted upon. Maybe if she didn’t spend so much time working hard at her grades, she would be more popular. Her parents would have paid for college anyway, but she didn’t want to inconvenience them, so she strived to earn the best scholarships. Perhaps if she were a better daughter, her parents would have an excuse to come home at night. Maybe if she worked harder at school, she would hear her parents say wonderful things like “we’re so proud of you” and “you did a great job”.

            Amelia took out a plate from the cabinet and filled it with the spaghetti she had cooked. There was still no sign of her parents. She thought to try calling them again, but knew it would be a futile effort to reach either one of them.

            When she settled herself down at the head of the table, she took up her utensils to dig in, but she found that she had no appetite. Amelia’s eyes focused on the Princeton packet she received in the mail. When she held it in her hands for the first time, she couldn’t wait to devour its contents with enthusiasm. But now, she had no interest. It was a bittersweet victory.

            Her eyes roamed from one empty chair to another and across the dining room to the window that overlooked the front yard. Outside, she could see a robin chirping in the dogwood tree she and her father had planted together when she was only a few years old. It had flowered into such a beautiful yard ornament, blooming every spring. It was blooming now and it was such a beautiful sight. The sun even seemed to shine brighter, making the petals of the flowers that much more radiant.

            Such beauty, however, couldn’t mend Amelia’s breaking heart. Ever so subtly, a single tear escaped from her eye and trickled down her cheek. It dripped from her chin, mixing with her spaghetti dinner.  

            Later that evening, after Amelia had finished all of her homework, she was lying on the couch in the living room, hugging her favorite stuffed animal - a brown and white border collie that she had named Captain Jack - and watching one of her all-time favorite films:
Anna and the King
starring Jodi Foster. To numb the disappointment from that afternoon, she often tried to distract herself with a movie or television show.

            The sunny day outside had turned into a rather stormy evening. She didn’t mind it though. The pattering of raindrops against the window was calming in a strange way. The wind had picked up in the last half hour. Lightning made its presence known, as rolling thunder in the distance followed it.

            It was already eight o’clock and her parents had still not arrived home, so she figured she would take advantage of the private time to watch a movie that her parents weren’t fond of. She enjoyed the movie for its undying principles of love, freedom and the importance of education. Amelia could only relate to the later concept. The other two seemed elusive to her.

            Right before the king’s servant was going to blow up the bridge with the evil General Alak still standing on it, Amelia heard a loud, thunderous crash coming from the basement. Frightened by the sudden calamity, Amelia almost fell from her seat on the couch. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if it was thunder or the sound affects from the explosion in the movie. But the noise neither came from the speakers, nor from above. It came from below.

            After she stilled her racing heart, she decided she needed to go see what caused the noise. She imagined it must have been something that had fallen, but it didn’t quite sound like that.

            Amelia paused the movie, put her boots back on and made her way to the door near the garage that led to the basement underneath.

            She always hated going down into the basement. It was too dark, too dank, and too creepy. When she was a child, she had nightmares of monsters living in the basement, along with the boogieman and all sorts of nasty creatures of the night. But, having grown up a little more she knew that no mutant tarantula was going to devour her once she set foot down the stairs. Nevertheless, the basement was still spooky and she never liked going down there.

            Amelia opened the door, letting out a shrill screech as the hinges grinded against each other to allow her access to the staircase landing. She carefully stepped over the threshold and pulled on the chain that would turn on the first light to help her walk down the stairs without tripping. Each step creaked under her weight. She wondered how old these stairs really were and if her father could be convinced to replace them. They certainly didn’t feel safe to be walking on.

            Once she made it to the bottom of the stairs, there was only one light bulb to illuminate the rest of the basement. She flicked the switch up and down a few times, but no light flashed in the darkness besides the occasional lightning that came through a small window on the far wall that opened out to a part of the backyard.

            She sighed in annoyance and stooped down to pick up the spare flashlight that she had put down there a year or so ago incase something like this happened. Luckily, the batteries were still working and hadn’t corroded from the humidity.

            Amelia stayed fixed on the last stair tread, one hand gripped on the splintery wood railing as she swiveled the flashlight along the walls that were lined with shelves full of work tools that have hardly ever been used and bookcases of old board games and souvenirs that had been collecting dust and cobwebs for far too long. Amelia searched the floor, but could see no obvious mess that might have caused the noise.

            The beam of light searched along another wall, where a deep freezer and water heater sat. They hummed loudly, as usual, but nothing looked damaged. Amelia tip toed off the last step and cautiously walked through the darkness towards a corner of the basement that didn’t look quite right.

            There used to be a bookcase or filing cabinet there, but now there was nothing. The corner was completely empty. Amelia walked over, peering into the darkness with the help of her flashlight.

            In the place of the bookcase she had known to be there was a large, gaping hole in the concrete floor, roughly six feet in diameter. It was not an exact hole with a smooth rim, but had jagged edges like the floor gave way under the weight of something heavy or had been pounded in with a sledgehammer. Amelia figured that perhaps the furniture simply fell through and that was what caused the loud crashing sound she had heard. She was thankful it wasn’t a burglar, but now she wondered how she was going to tell her parents about the damage.

            Amelia approached the hole and aimed her flashlight down into it. The flashlight revealed nothing. It was as if the hole was too deep for the light to shine upon anything in it. She saw no furniture, no monster, nothing, just a black empty abyss with no bottom. Amelia’s rational mind couldn’t explain this. The basement was already underground, so there was no way that a hole this deep could have been made just by a heavy piece of furniture. A hole this deep would have had to been dug before the construction company laid the foundation of the house. But why would someone dig such a large hole for no reason?

            As Amelia peered into the hole, the concrete she was standing on began to crack and crumble beneath her feet. Before she had a chance to step back, the ground beneath her caved in, dropping her into the pit, screaming and waving her arms wildly for something to grab onto.

            There was nothing but smooth dirt. Not even her fingers could hook into the soil that whizzed past her. As she fell farther and farther down, the packed walls of dirt widened and no matter how far she reached out around her, there was nothing there at all.

            Onward down she tumbled, head over heels and twirling in the air and all she could think about were the things that she wanted to be different. She wished she had friends that would mourn her passing. She wished she had parents that would have been home to make sure she didn’t fall down this hole. She wished she had spent her life truly living instead of having her nose stuck in a book, locked in her room with the curtains drawn. She wished she had a way of escaping this fate.

            Amelia’s world went black as she swiftly met the bottom of the hole. 

            
W
hen Amelia came to, she found herself in a pitch-black darkness. She rubbed her sore head and groaned as she struggled to sit up. Pain shot through nearly every muscle in her body. The ground beneath her felt like plush, rich soil and the air was bitterly cold and muggy. She squinted around, but could find no trace of light. It was so perfectly dark that she couldn’t tell if her eyes were really open or closed.

            Amelia quickly checked herself for any breaks or oozing cuts. She seemed perfectly fine from what she could tell, just a bit dirty and achy.

            As she sat in the darkness, she searched her memory for what had happened. She was at home, watching television. Then she heard a noise and went to the basement. There was a hole and she knew she had fallen down the hole by accident. Whether she had fallen through the center of the earth and was just a few steps away from Shi Huangdi’s burial tomb in China, she didn’t know. Neither did she know how long she had been unconscious. If there was any way out of this hole, then she may have been late for school already. What an odd time to think of being late for class.

            Instead of wasting time by panicking, Amelia did the next logical thing. She dug the toe of her boot into a spot on the dirt and reached out in all four directions to determine where the walls of this hole were. She could feel soggy soil walls surrounding her on only three sides, but the fourth side was far out of reach from her fingertips.

            Next, she attempted to stand up. She only made it to her knees before she smartly hit her head against hard packed dirt, causing some soil to crumble onto her scalp and shoulders.

            “
That’s strange
,” she thought. “
I fell down a hole, but now the ceiling is caved in… But, I’m alive? This doesn’t make any sense
.”

            Amelia only shrugged, rolled up her blouse sleeves past her elbows so the fabric wouldn’t get too dirty and began crawling in the one open direction she had found earlier. She shuffled along like a toddler for several moments before she finally saw a dim light far out ahead of her. She crawled even faster, eager to get out of the burrow.

            Her forearms and hands were scraped by small pebbles and broken roots that protruded from the ground she crawled upon. She knew her knees must have been caked with dirt and her mind instantly thought of how she would clean those stains out later.

            When she reached the opening of the burrow, it was masked in a thin curtain of overgrown weeds trailing down from the ground above her head. She swept aside the foliage and poked her head out of the tunnel. What she saw outside confused her even more.

            Amelia found herself in a forest. But, it wasn’t the lush forests she was used to seeing on the outskirts of her town or in her neighborhood. This forest was dead, grey and lifeless. The branches of the tall trees were crooked and had thick wiry clumps of moss hanging from their appendages. Their roots were twisted along the ground that was veiled in a dense fog. The mist softly crept and swirled over the forest floor like the gentle rippling surface of a lake.

            Above her, a full moon shone brightly through the canopy of distorted branches and swaying moss, onto the path that the tunnel had opened out to. In the distance, she could hear the little chirps and haunting calls of nocturnal creatures. The whole forest was bathed in the moon’s eerie bluish glow, casting dark shadows in places that Amelia wished there were no shadows.

            She pulled herself out of the burrow, dusted off her clothes and shook out the bits of dirt that had accumulated in her hair.

            As she inspected her surroundings once more, she knew she must have been dreaming. There was no possible way that she could have fallen through a hole in her basement, only to come out into a remote forest. Amelia didn’t even live near any forests like this. She couldn’t have crawled that far.

            “I’m dreaming. I just fell down the hole and hit my head, that’s all,” Amelia told herself as she gazed around at the thin bent branches and thorny bushes that lined the path she was now standing on.

            She knew that in dreams, if one thought about it hard enough, they could change what they were seeing and experiencing. Amelia shut her eyes tight and tried to envision a more beautiful forest, like the park that she lived near. She loved that park and its comfortable benches by the lake. She wanted to be in that park, not this forest. When she opened her eyes, however, she was still in the dead forest. She knew she had to be dreaming, there was no other explanation. Or was there?

            Amelia bit her lip and cautiously began walking down the path in one direction, hoping to come across some friendly stranger who could explain to her what was going on. If this was a dream, then the more she thought about a nice guide to help her along the way, the faster they were bound to appear. But, the longer she walked, no guide appeared.  

            Instead of meeting a person to help her, she spotted strange orange orbs glowing in the distance. It was only two at first, one on each side of the path. But as she drew closer, they multiplied and soon she could see the dark green iron lampposts that the lights were emitting from. They reminded her of the lampposts from Main Street, but she could see a distinct difference. These lampposts actually had the old-fashioned gas flame burning in their glass acorn-shaped lantern house instead of the modern light bulb.

            Forest earth slowly changed into slick cobblestone, coated with moisture from a rain that must have come earlier in the day and the thinning fog. Amelia’s footsteps were the only sounds that softly echoed through the empty town.

            Along the streets stood handsome wooden and brick shops and homes of the late Victorian style. All the house windows were black and there was no sign of life anywhere along the paved sidewalks. Despite it being the middle of the night, the moon gave ample lighting so Amelia could make out the fine crafted details of the signs and different landmarks.

            The town reminded her of a classic horror flick, taking place in some foreign city in Europe. It was peaceful in the movie too, before the monster would come raving through the streets chasing a screaming lady. Amelia hoped she would not be that lady.

            As she walked down the middle of the stony street, Amelia became braver than she was before. This place didn’t seem too bad for a dream and at least she didn’t feel as lost now.

            She kept walking, letting her eyes roam over the historic architecture, trying to find someone to talk to or some little shop that would be open for her to enter and ask questions.

            Amelia had to walk all the way into the middle of town until she finally found someone. He was standing near a brick wall, scanning over multiple flyers that had been tacked up. His back faced her and shrouded in shadows so much that she couldn’t tell what he looked like from where she was standing. He wore a long trench coat with the collar turned up and a wide brimmed hat that shaded his face. All she knew was that he was someone who might have been able to explain where she was in this dream. She was very curious what her imagination had concocted.

            Putting on her best smile, she hastily made her way to his side. “Excuse me?” she said, taping on his shoulder. “Could you tell me where I am? I’m a bit lost, you see and I want to-”

            The man turned to look at Amelia and she was horrified by what she saw.

            The man’s face and neck were covered in slimy, green scales that might have resembled the skin of a lizard or serpent. His eyes were black with no iris at all. Only a pair of red, vertical slits stared back at her with disdain.

            Amelia gasped as a pink forked tongue flicked rapidly from between the creature’s lips and a threateningly hissing noise erupted from its throat.

            She screamed as loud as she could and ran down the street, thinking the creature would chase after her in the hopes of a late night snack. It only peered at her figure curiously, then shrugged its shoulders and went back to reading one of the flyers on the wall.

            Amelia quickly found a shop that still had its open sign flipped to allow customers inside. When she charged through the door, a cheerful bell chimed from above her head and Amelia saw she had just entered into something like an old antique store.

            She panted heavily and quickly looked around for help, eyes wide with fear and heart pounding faster than it ever had before. If there was a monster on the loose, she had to inform the authorities, whoever that may have been. She had no clue that the creature wasn’t chasing her at all.

            All around here were tables and bookcases filled with all sorts of ancient knickknacks and trinkets that would have appealed to her if she were not frightened for her life. “Is anyone here?” she called out, seeing that the room was empty. No one was even behind the clerk’s counter that housed the cash register and a jar of odd-looking candy.

            A tall, lean looking gentleman emerged from the back storeroom. He was dressed in an overcoat, the collar turned up, wearing a soft hat and pair of black sunglasses. He appeared to be in the process of leaving for the night. He immediately saw the distressed look of the girl and quickly advanced towards her.

            “I’m sorry, miss, but I’m just about to close up my shop. Is something the matter?” he asked in an old British accent that rolled off his tongue liltingly.

            “Yes, yes! There’s a creature out there with scaly skin and a weird set of eyes. I need to call the police or FBI or somebody. Please, may I use your phone?” Amelia asked frantically, pointing outside the storefront window into the empty street.

            The owner of the shop stared long and hard at her, and then cleared his throat. “Uh, miss, I think you should just rest here for a moment. I’ll call an ambulance to come and pick you up. You must have hit your head a little too hard. I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” And with that, the owner turned to walk back into the storeroom.

            Amelia’s hand fled to her mouth to stifle the impending scream as she saw a golden lion’s tale swish out from underneath the man’s overcoat. Once in the back room, she saw him he remove his hat and sunglasses to reveal a thick mane of coarse hair, rounded cat ears and yellow cat-like eyes with similar vertical pupils as the serpent creature.

           
What kind of a place is this?

            Amelia rushed out the door as he began dialing the phone, disturbing the bell over the doorframe again. She didn’t want to see what strange animal the ambulance people would be like.

            As soon as she stepped out the door and trotted down the sidewalk, an unexpected icy mist passed through her her. She staggered a little, trying to regain her balance. She could feel little droplets of moisture all over her face and the front of her blouse where the mist had hit her.

            Amelia turned around to where the mist had passed to and instead saw a disgruntled man… No, not a man, he couldn’t be. He looked far too transparent with a pale tint to be a man. If Amelia hadn’t known any better, she would have acknowledged him as a ghost.

            He wore a very expensive looking suit ensemble and fedora. His facial features were sharp and rather handsome – in an old Hollywood actor sort of way – and the only blemish she could find in his appearance was a grisly wound across his throat like he had been slashed with a machete.

            “Hey, watch where you’re going!” the man barked, then turned to continue walking - or rather floating - down the sidewalk.

            Amelia pressed both her palms against her mouth to keep in the terrified shriek. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

            Amelia slapped her cheek in an attempt to wake herself up, but it was useless. The world around her still seemed too tangible, too real and quickly becoming too frightening for her to comprehend.

            High above her, Amelia heard a shrill cry, much like a hawk or falcon would make. She knew it wasn’t wise to look up, but curiosity got the better of her. When she turned her eyes to the sky, she saw a flock of winged creatures descending upon the street with razor sharp talons outstretched.

            Amelia cried out in surprise and backed herself up as close to the brick wall of a nearby building as she could, witnessing what she could only describe as the landing of half a dozen harpies.

            Their bodies resembled women, but they were fashioned with brown wings fixed in their backs and bird-like feet. Their hair was wiry and thin, but their faces were perfect like a model’s. These harpies reminded Amelia of the cheerleaders back at school, wearing tight fitting shorts and torn up tank tops.

            The winged creatures made their landing, took one glance to Amelia and walked on by, sneering and cackling like old witches. They seemed to have no problem walking on their clawed feet.

            From down the street where the harpies were sauntering came strolling a pack of werewolves. There was no mistaking what they were. They walked upright on their hind legs, covered in bushy hair that varied in hues and colorations, with pointed dog ears mounted where normal human ears should be and slanted, probing amber eyes.

            All of them wore tattered pants and no shirts to display their chiseled muscles beneath their pelts. Their faces were distorted to resemble that of a wolf’s with a long muzzle and butter-colored fangs. Their nails were sharpened into points and looked nearly unbreakable. As they gestured their hands at the other pack members, Amelia saw their palms were dark with pads like a dog’s. Their feet were the same, but they walked upon the balls of their paws with what would have been their heels raised up above the ground.

            Amelia gawked as they ambled on down the street and straight into a pub that was advertised to be open all night long.