This week is all about escape, whether it be to a “happy place” or somewhere where your characters can hide. Here’s my response:
Her shoulders dropped to the floor with an exaggerated shrug. “Sometimes, it’s not that easy, Mike.”
He glanced at the chains bound around his wrists, the edge of the digging into his skin. He had forgotten what it meant for things to be “easy” now. Having ended up in a dark dungeon had become all too familiar. Nevertheless, with the chains becoming like a metallic second skin, Mike wanted to do anything to lift their spirits.
“Genevieve, please tell me how you don’t wind up going crazy down here.”
Her cheeks relaxed and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes faded. Biting her lip, her head bounced back and forth as if to a cheery tune. But the only rhythm in the dungeon consisted of inconsolable sobs and rattled chains.
“I just – I guess I teleport using my mind,” she explained.
Mike’s ears perked up. “Teleport? Using your mind?”
“In so many ways.” She took a step forward. The clanking of metal resounded in the holding cell as she tripped back. “Stupid chains,” she cursed.
Mike dropped to his knees, the weight in legs like the iron that imprisoned him. Digging his thumb into the shackle, he attempted to free his skin so the blistering sore could get some relief. His yelp pierced his own ears as he pulled back his hand. He shook out his infected hand as he looked at her once more.
“Can you teach me how, then?”
The faintest smile lifted the corner of her lips. With grace, she folded her legs beneath her. She arched her back before settling into a statue-like pose.
“Close your eyes, Michael.”
Hearing his formal name would have irked him like a mosquito bite, but he was desperate for relief. His chest expanded as his eyelids dropped, the blackest of darkness greeting him like an old friend.
“Listen to my words and nothing else,” she commanded.
Mike pushed away the questions swirling around in his head. He forced the worries of the future and mistakes of the past away from his mind.
Focus.
“We are now leaving this dungeon. You and I are as weightless as the paper planes we used to make as children.”
He took in a deep breath as his body transformed. His aching muscles eased into tranquility, melting like butter under the hot knife of her commands. The image of the bright, blue sky infiltrated his mind. Puffs of white clouds scattered about the sky. His nose twitched upon the scent of saltwater tickling his nostrils. He licked his lips, the bitter salt sticking to his skin.
Her sweet voice continued. “I’m right here with you. Take us back there, Mike. Embrace me with all that you are and lead me there.”
Grains of hot sand clung to the bottom of his feet. Waves crashing against the cliff side boomed in his ears. Wind wiped his brown curly hair like the blades of tall grass. He dared to open his eyes.
And then he saw her.
The edges of her cotton white dress fluttered in the wind. Her hair blew in the wind like a thick band of golden ribbon. The smile plastered on her face spoke of her freedom.
He cupped his hands around his cheeks. “How are we here?”
She looked at him with flirtatious eyes, her wink making his stomach ripple with excitement.
“You brought us here, of course.”
He looked down at his wrists. The sight of soft, supple skin void of any blistering or shackles made him giddy. A satisfied chuckle hummed on his lips. He looked over at her once more, his excitement threatening to burst his heart from his chest.
He threw his hands up. “We’re free!”
He wanted to run to her, to kiss her harder than anyone had before. He took a step forward, but the clank of metal robbed him of his joy.
No.
The stench of blood and filth violated his nose. Thick, metal bracelets dug into his wrists once again. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked up at her.
“Genevieve, what – what happened?”
Pursing her lips, her sad eyes surveyed the ground instead of meeting his like he’d hope.
“You go there anytime you’d like. But in the end, we’ll always be here,” she whispered.
Until next post,
