Escape.

Claire’s POV:

After watching the wolf walk away from me, I sniffled, bringing my hand up to my face.

My fingers touched wetness and I felt stunned.

Why was I crying?

I didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that I had nothing else to do, or no one else - be it a human or a wolf or an inanimate object - to talk to. I sniffled again, feeling bereft. Even if it was merely for a day, I found a kindred spirit in that injured wolf.

I looked at the edge of the forest, half-hoping to hear a few sounds. Maybe a sound that would show that the wolf hadn’t left yet?

But there was nothing.

With a shake of my head - Claire, you’re being too sentimental for a reason, I tried to chide myself. I turned and began my slow walk back to the house. As soon as I entered the backyard, my hackles rose and I froze as my ears picked up a voice.

It was my father.

He was up. I crouched low, hearing him talking.

“Is it enough time to still get some? I can hunt some game tomorrow…” my father’s voice trailed off and my heart clenched. He sounded so weary like he was bone tired. Of course, he had a reason to be tired. He rarely stayed home late in the morning and he would always come back late.

But what was he talking about? And who was he talking to? Just then, I heard someone else’s voice just as there was the ring of the microwave having warmed the food. I recognized it to be one of my father’s friends.

Apparently, the man had come inside the house while I was in the backyard. Had they heard me? I doubted that. Maybe they thought that I was asleep.

“Well, Samuel,” he was saying, mentioning my father’s name. “If you cannot get enough, then we have to think. There must be other ways of getting this money quickly. If you don’t, the debt collectors will…”

The voice faded in the background as my mind processed the words I had just heard. I covered my mouth as I wanted to gasp out loud and didn’t want anyone to hear.

Debt?

I had no idea about any sort of debt. When did this happen? Did that mean that..? That we were bankrupt? My father’s voice began speaking again and I zeroed in on his words.

“Look, Stephan,” he was saying and I heard the clink of plates in the background. “What you’re going to have to do is find me a way. I don’t have many people who can help me right now. I need to get this debt sorted pronto. Before tomorrow night. I need…” his voice trailed off, and I pressed my ear to the wooden part of the door to hear what else he was murmuring. But I got nothing.

What was it that he was saying?

I fell silent, crouched in that position until my feet started to hurt, waiting for the moment when my father and his friend would leave the kitchen and I’d be free to enter. While I waited, my mind ran wild. And I didn’t like what my brain was thinking up.

The facts were clear: my father was in debt. His friend had mentioned debt collectors too. So that would mean that there were people who were going to come for everything my father had if he didn’t pay up.

How much did he owe in the first place? And how did he plan on paying them back?

I bit my lip, wondering if it would affect my life very much. I doubted it. My father barely remembered I existed, not to mention that I managed well enough without him, or rather, despite him and the rest of this freaking family.

********

I woke up the next day and quickly got to my bathroom to have a shower. The time flew quickly but just as I was brushing my hair, already fully dressed, a knock came on the door.

Immediately my door opened, without a preamble. My father walked in, and I gaped at him. His eyes were blank until they rested upon me, which was when they lit up with glee.

“You,” he pointed at me. “Get dressed. There will be someone to take you from here.”

What?

“What happened?” I asked him, standing up. “Where am I going?”

My hopes to leave this place however were immediately dashed with the next words out of his mouth.

“You will finally be going to your new home. I have sold you to someone. You probably know him,” his eyes twinkled with malice and greed I recognized. My eyes widened out of my socket. Sold? What did he mean by that?

“What?” My outrage was clear. “But father, cant-“

“You have no choice. Mr. Ralph has bought you, girl! He wants a new slave, and you’ll do. You will be going to him!” With that my father walked out, shutting the door with a loud slam.

I stared blankly at the door, panicked as hell. I moved to grip the door handle and pull the door open but it didn’t budge. It had been locked from the other side.

“Hey!” I screamed, banging my hands on the door. “Don’t do this, father! Please! I don’t want to be a slave!”

I didn’t want to be a slave!

Tears spilled out of my eyes and I couldn’t help it. I placed my head on the door as my body shook. Slowly, I slid down to the floor, feeling like the world, my world, had just come crashing down on me. It was coming to an end.

Why? Why did father decide that I was worth getting rid of like this? That I was worth selling off to a man, an ugly horrible man who wanted me to be his slave? Why the hell was life unfair?

I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of all the things I wanted. I wanted to work for myself, leave this house of my own free will and live freely. I wanted to have no one to serve, and only to be happy by myself. Yet in all these, I couldn’t have this.

I whimpered, putting my arms around my knees and curling up in a fetal position.

This was so unfair. I didn’t want this. So why should you accept it, a voice chimed in my head. I sniffled, swallowing and raising my head to stare blankly at the wall.

What could I do but accept this? I asked myself.

But then the voice rang within me once again.

You could run, the rebellious part of my mind stated. You could go down the forest and make sure no one ever found you.

I was considering this slowly, raising my hand to wipe the tears from my cheek. Could I really do it? Could I run? Maybe it would be better to be out there than ever being in here, trapped forever, with no destiny but what others made for me.

I stood up, moving towards the open window. I looked down, noting how the space of the window was enough for me to fit through.

I’d have to take my chances, to jump and escape. And I would run far away until this house was nothing but a horrible memory