I dressed hastily and shot out of my room, only stopped by the hulk of a man that was positioned right outside my door.
"This way please." At least he was nice. The rest of the guys here treated the girls and I like crap. Although it isn't surprising. If you can buy it, why behave acceptably to it? You can always buy another one. It was sickening. I knew many girls who were made to work as servants when the weren't doing particular other tasks for their 'masters'. I hated them. I hated them all. Not just my father. It was almost as thought they didn't know that we were human also.
I followed the man in front of me, more stomping than walking because of my anger. I half expected the man to turn around and hit me for all the noise that I was making. But he didn't. Which I found very peculiar. Once again he was treating me like a human and not the slave that everyone else thought I was. I wondered why.
I wasn't paying attention to where we were even going until we stopped in front of a door that definitely was not the one that opened into my fathers office. I opened the door and was forced to raise my arm to shield my eyes from the warm sunlight that was suddenly pouring down onto my face. A slight breeze was blowing. Only adding to the ingredients that made it a beautiful day. He had lead me to a way out. I turned to look at him, not caring that my face was arranged in a way that was obviously questioning.
"Why?" I asked, almost pleading. Knowing that this must be some kind of sick joke. Tempt me, let me go, feel free. Only to be caught again hours later. Or even minutes later.
"You deserve better than this, you all deserve better than this." His voice was calm and steady. He wasn't nervous, even though if my father found out he would certainly have this man killed. Right after he killed me for running away again. My thoughts must have been portrayed upon my face, because he said "Don't worry about me, I've done this before. I know how to handle myself." I didn't doubt him. He looked as though he could take out a lion with one well placed punch, but still I was hesitant about leaving. Not wanting to let myself feel the hope that came with running away. The hope that this time they wouldn't catch me. That they wouldn't even come after me. That I could lead a normal life, be a normal person. I'd begun to hate this hope, because it was always slashed in the end.
Knowing that this would be another fruitless attempt, I turned, sighing to myself. But I was not able to resist the pull of the outside world. I ran into the morning sun, knowing that if I was to have even the slightest chance of getting away, I would need to put a lot of distance between myself and this building before night fall. But I also needed to stay out of sight. I'd come to know that they had placed many informants in this little town in New Orleans, right by the French Quarter. Ah, the French Quarter, I love it, the old buildings, the classic balconies. It was beautiful, and it was home. Even if the only parts of it that I saw often were the ones that I could see out of my bedroom window. That was the only good thing about me dirty room in that prison, the view. I could see St. Louis Cathedral and the river in the distance. I could see the people walking around the French Quarter, shopping, laughing, having a good time. I could hear the people shouting on Bourbon St. at night. I loved those moments, laying in bed, listening to the party raging outside. Dreaming about how one day, that would be me. Screaming, drinking, dancing. Living. But that was all it was. A dream. I never even imagined it could be anything more. At least if I ever did, I was caught soon afterwards.
But even so, I allowed myself to feel a little bit of the hope, even if it was short lived. I kept running until I reached the street car and I hoped on, not really caring where it was going, just that it was taking me away from here. Wherever it took me I would work with it. It was a wonderful day so I turned to the window and gazed out, transfixed by the sunlight filtering through the trees. When the street car stopped we were out by the zoo, in Audubon Park. I smiled. I'd always liked animals, but I wouldn't be visiting the zoo today. Even if I had had the time, I didn't have the money.
I headed back and turned onto Calhoun and started walking. By nightfall I was hopelessly lost, tired and cold. Cold? This was New Orleans! Out of all the hot weather they got here, the one night that I got out it had to be cold! Luck seems to work against me that way. I looked around hoping to find a hidden place for me to curl up and sleep the night away. I found on within a few minutes of looking and, after looking both ways to make sure no one was watching, I darted into the bushes. Sighing and smiling to myself I rested my aching back against the frigid dirt. I wrapped my ratty old hoodie tighter around me, glad that I had put it on this morning, not knowing how much I would need it. I gazed up at the stars, shivering and sore but happy nonetheless. Maybe this time I would get away. Maybe this time I would get to be the normal teenager that I had always dreamed of.
AN: Hey there! Thanks for reading! Giving you a taste of an amazing town here, even if its not home any more. Hoped you liked it! Leave a review!