Tether My Shadow To Yours

Vee's POV

I don't move until the red taillights disappear beyond the gate.

"One... two... three..." The words leave my mouth in quiet whispers, each number burning my sore throat.

I don't stop until I reach sixty seconds. Then I start again. And again. Three full minutes pass before I am sure my parents have really left the compound.

With a groan, I reach up to my hair, careful not to pull my tied wrists any tighter against my sore skin. My heart pounds in my head as my fingers find the cold metal of my hairpin.

I pull the pin free and bend over the heavy chain locked around my ankles. My hands move on instinct, guided by the thousand times I practiced this in my mind.

They stripped this room bare to keep me here. Thankfully no one thought to check my hair.

The lock clicks open.

Relief hits me so hard my eyes sting with tears. For one moment I feel like crying, like thanking the universe that it worked.

But a new fear sinks into my bones as I free my legs, my ears straining for any sound aside the TV playing downstairs.

One mistake and I'm finished.

I swiftly work on my wrists. The rope falls away and I rub the angry red marks left behind, wincing when blood suddenly rushes back into my fingers.

My knees tremble in fright when my stomach growls so loudly I swear it echoes in the empty room.

Three days. I have not eaten in three days. This is the longest they've made me go without food.

With weak hands I pull on a pair of jeans and a wrinkled sweater from the back of my closet, anything to get out of this nightdress I have been wearing for days.

My legs shake with every step but I don't stop moving. I step out through the door to my room, broken and barely hanging off its hinges.

A symbol of my father's fury.

"Do you think we should take something to her?"

I stop moving when I hear voices coming from the hallway.

"Jamimah, it's best if you don't think like that," another woman whispers back. "You know what the boss could do to us if he finds out."

I press myself flat against the wall, holding my breath.

"If he ever finds out," Jamimah says, and her voice cracks. "The poor girl could die."

I squeeze my eyes, making up my mind before sneaking past them without a sound.

Leaving my father's compound is not hard when you know which cameras are broken and which guards are too lazy to actually stand guard. I take the least monitored route… the one through the garden, crawling through a gap in the tiny fence. My hip gets stuck but I bite down on my lips and push.

I'm not particularly big but certainly the tiny holes in the garden fence aren't built for humans. My toes curl in pain as I squeeze through, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Hey, did you hear that?” A familiar guard says. I don't see him but I know who it is.

My heart pounds painfully.

These men have kept me safe for years but not one of them is willing to protect me from my parents.

Slowly I drop flat on the wet grass, pressing my face into the muddy dirt, not even daring to breathe. My heart hammers against the ground.

"Probably just a cat again," he mutters to whoever it is with him, right as his footsteps fade away.

I wait until I am sure he is gone before I push myself up on weak legs. I limp through the yard, not stopping until I get to the busy streets.

The sun disappears completely and I use the opportunity to stick to the dark alleys and back roads, places I know my parents wouldn't drive.

"Well, well," a loud voice breaks out from a group of girls and boys lounging against a graffiti-covered wall up ahead.

I keep walking. I can't pass nowhere else as this is the only route without cctv cameras.

Their eyes latch onto me as I draw closer. Heck, I know I look wrong. My clothes, although now dirty, still look too expensive.

"Look what the rich folks dropped off." one of the girls calls out, her voice dripping with mockery.

I keep my eyes forward and my pace steady, ignoring the sweat rolling down my back.

"Hey, princess," another voice shouts. "You lost? Mommy and Daddy's neighborhood is that way, silly."

I hear them laughing, whispering to each other, but I make sure not to stare so they don't feel challenged.

But then one of them steps directly in front of me. A young man with dirty black hair and a sick grin that makes my skin crawl.

He lifts a cigarette to his lips, inhales, and blows the smoke straight into my face.

I immediately step around him but I'm not fast enough to avoid the circle of thugs I'm suddenly sounded by.

"Leave me alone," I say using all the courage left in my feeble body. "I don't have time for this."

"Oh, she doesn't have time," the boy with the rough black hair says with an even wider grin. "You wouldn't last an hour out here in the wild, little bird. Go back home, okay? The streets ain't fun."

"Why not keep your dumb thoughts to yourself?" I snarl, my hands balling into fists at my sides. "You don't tell me what to fucking do."

His smile vanishes. In one swift motion, he pulls a knife from his jacket and holds it up casually between us. Instantly my blood runs cold.

"Be a good girl and cooperate," he smirks, stepping closer. "Or things might get ugly."

He is barely done talking when I twist my body, wrench the knife from him and slash at him.

He shouts in shock, stumbling backward, his eyes wide and frightened as blood soaks his shirt.

"You little bitch!" he shouts, holding his wounded shoulder.

Shit, what have I done?

But I don't get the chance to reminisce on my actions as police sirens cut through the night.

The group scatters. I run too but immediately stop when some who manage to run far get tasered.

“Surrender and you won't get hurt.” A police officer yells out.

My whole body trembles as fear grips me.

I remain still, knowing running is pointless now as an officer grabs my arm. They catch the boy I wounded too, and shove us both into the back of a patrol car.

“One hundred and nineteen minutes,” I mutter to myself, toying with my fingers in my lap as I stare at the ticking clock in the police station, my ears picking up the familiar footsteps.

I was so close. So close to escaping.

I blink back tears when the officer who has been sitting opposite me for nearly two hours finally speaks up.

"Detective Harrison, your daughter is right this way, sir," the man says.

I drop my head, blood spilling from a deep pinch in my thumb.