17. 17 - Zella
Sighing, I let my head fall back against the edge of the bathtub.
Bliss.
This… this is perfection.
Mentally thanking whoever thought to add bubbles to the stocked cupboard I found when I investigated the pretty bathroom more closely, I wiggle my toes with happiness. Not that I can see them. I think I might have added a little too much of the strawberry scented liquid.
I wish I’d had a bath in the apartment. I had no idea what I was missing out on.
Slowly, the fizzy happiness in my stomach fades away. My toes clench.
I wonder if Ethan knows I’m gone yet. If he’s walked into the apartment, expecting me to be there.
And what he’ll do when he realizes I’m not.
Sinking down until the water brushes the edge of my nose, I shiver.
The Ethan I saw last time wasn’t the Ethan I know. And that Ethan… I don’t want to think about what he might do.
I wait for the guilt to settle in. He’s the closest thing to a parent I’ve ever had. He raised me, cared for me, looked after me.
Except… did he, though?
The more time I spend away from the place I used to call home, the darker the thoughts inside my head. He told me it was to keep me safe. Repeated it over and over again, until I didn’t even think of not believing him because it was the framework for my entire life .
I rub at my chest, trying to sweep away the stab of pain.
And if none of it was true… what does that mean?
The walls start to squeeze smaller, like they’re closing in on me. My breathing seesaws again, the sharp stabbing in my chest fading to a dull pounding that isn’t going away.
Sitting up with a gasp, I curl over and squeeze my eyes shut.
It doesn’t help. It only makes the feeling worse, the space around me shrinking until there’s not enough air. I pull myself out of the water, sending droplets and bubbles sliding across the tiled floor as I grab a towel and wrap it around myself.
Staggering into the bedroom, I make for the window and press my hand against it, staring desperately out into the night. But there’s no light out there, the moon too hidden and the area too dark for me to see.
The sob cracks in my throat.
As I lean in further, pressing my face against the glass to try to see something, there’s a click, and I stagger.
Pushing myself back, I look down. The window… is not, in fact, a window.
It’s a door .
My fingers curl around the edge of the glass, and I pull it gently towards me, not daring to hope until a soft breeze dances over my exposed skin.
I jump back, my hand flying to my throat.
Air. Fresh air.
I’ve never felt fresh air on my skin.
Taking a tentative step forward, I worry at my bottom lip with my teeth. Sudden trepidation fills me.
This is what I wanted, but I’m suddenly scared.
Walls are comforting.
Walls are safe.
The air that dances over my fingers when I hold them out… there’s a big world out there. No walls to be seen.
My shoulders firm.
I will not be afraid .
This is all I ever wanted. Freedom. And it’s right there for me to take.
I’m taking it.
I yank the door wide open. It clatters back against the wall with an ominous clash, but I don’t pay it any attention.
I’m leaning out over the small set of bars built into the wall, and all I can do is breathe in. The breeze flits around me, playing with my hair, tickling my nose and making me sneeze.
My hands shake on the bars as my eyes blur, the limited darkness fading into an incoherent mass as the tears start to fall.
It’s better than I ever imagined. Inhaling deeply, I take in the fresh scent I didn’t expect. It feels brisk, a little sharp, and all I want to do is suck it down and expand my lungs with it, fill myself up so nobody can ever take this feeling away from me.
Why do people even have windows? What’s the point when they could have this ?
The soft carpet under my feet suddenly feels too itchy.
Leaning out, I stare down into the dark garden.
A criss-crossing piece of wood winds up the wall beneath me, curling around my window, fading blooms offering the promise of flowers in summer.
A petal crunches in my hand as I gently pull it off, curling my fingers around it.
The sudden, desperate urge has me staring at the wood.
I’m not that far from the ground, not really.
I could do it.
Holding my breath, I swing my leg up before I realize I’ve got no actual clothes on. The towel slips with my movement, slithering down to the floor as I stare down at it and then back to the garden.
It’s really dark. Who’s going to see me?
Just for a few minutes, and then I’ll climb back up.
The thought of stopping for even a second, of turning my back on this and worrying about clothes makes my chest hurt more.
I need to get down there.
So I swing my leg over, and it’s only when I’m precariously balanced on the other side of the bars, facing the bedroom, that I remember my promise to Maverick.
I told him I wouldn’t leave without one of them.
Pursing my lips, I hover on the edge and debate the options. The ground is right there. My toes could be sinking into the cool grass right now.
Instead, the breeze is blowing directly against my ass, making me shiver. Swallowing down the nagging sense of disloyalty, I start to gingerly make my way down, testing the weight of the wooden slats to make sure they’ll take my weight.
He probably meant away from the house. He wouldn’t mean the gardens. There’s nobody around, that’s clear from the lack of lights.
He won’t even know.
The anxiety dancing in my stomach ratchets up as I climb down, and by the time I pause, hovering just above the ground, I’m drowning in guilt. Pressing my face into the back of my hands where they grip the wood, I take a deep breath.
I’m reading way too much into this. He’s not going to care.
My stomach doesn’t agree with me, but I swallow the unease down. I only get to experience this moment once, and I want to make the most of it.
Softly, I press my toe into the ground. It feels cool beneath my toes, a little damp, and my breath catches as I scrunch up my toes, digging them into the moist earth.
The smile spreads across my face until I’m grinning, and I set my other foot down, savoring the feel of the ground sinking slightly beneath my feet.
“Freedom,” I whisper, tasting the word on my tongue. As I stare out into the dark, a delighted laugh erupts from my throat.
A moment later, I’m sprawled on the ground. Little sticks and stones dig into my stomach, my legs, but I don’t care. Pressing my cheek into the ground, I take great, gasping breaths, breathing in the earthy fragrance.
My heart is singing.
“I’m so glad I left,” I whisper. My confession fades away into the dark.
No matter what. Even if I went back tomorrow, I will never, ever forget this moment, not if I lived in that place for another twenty-three years.
I don’t care how angry Ethan is right now. This is all I wanted, and I’m going to make the most of it.
My hair trails along the ground as I climb to my feet, twisting my feet to feel every piece of dirt as I start to move.
I have no idea where I’m going. My pace picks up slowly until I’m almost running, and my hair flies out behind me as I run as fast as I can, laughing breathlessly at the sensation. I need to go back, but five minutes won’t hurt.
Just five more minutes.