Friday, May 8th at 2:45pm

I am at home, alone, in my bedroom. I stepped out of the shower only a few moments ago. I always take a nice, long shower after track practice. I am sitting at my computer reviewing some photos I took on my way home from track. I like track, but I love photography. I would go to college for photography, but I know I will never be able to support myself, let alone a family. My parents will be home soon, I always have the house to myself on Friday's, while my mother takes my eight year old sister to tennis. My father is at work. Friday is my favorite night because you know you have the whole weekend to do whatever you wish.

Since Friday night is pizza night, I go into the kitchen to start stretching out my homemade dough into the shape of a pizza. Although my mother is much better at doing this, I don't mind doing it. Once I finish the pizza, I write the following in my journal:

Today, right now, we live in a society governed by, of, and for the people. We are ruled by the Constitution that provides us all with three basic rights: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We are a free people, but what if we had these basic rights striped away tomorrow. What if the U.S. Constitution was suspended, possibly indefinitely? What if you had no rights at all, no freedom of speech, no freedom of the press, you could be arrested for absolutely no reason at all. This would happen if Martial Law was declared here, now, in the land of the free.

The government has in recent decades been preparing to enact such laws, placing our military and the President in charge of everything. Congress would not be able to do anything about it for six months after the Martial Law was declared. Why would the president declare such a law you ask, why else but power?

Our lives would be completely different. Think about this, what if the internet was shut down and the press no longer had freedom, you would have no way to get accurate, non fabricated information. What if the media rebelled, you ask. They would be arrested, thrown into jail, never to be seen from again. Remember, there would be no freedom of the press. We, as a society, would likely be put under a strict curfew. Soon there would be house-by-house searches for weaponry. There would be no Second Amendment, no right for the citizens to bear arms. We would soon be scared and unarmed. People who protested would be arrested, or possibly worse. Be prepared, it could happen tomorrow.

I am cut off from finishing my journal entry when the doorbell rings. I go to answer it, expecting a book I ordered a few weeks ago, but it is a military official instead. Startled, I answer the door.

"Hello, sir, how can I help you?", I say.

"Are your parents, Mister and Misses Jackson, on the premises?", he asks.

"No sir, they aren't"

"How old are you young lady?"

"I'm fifteen, sir"

"Do you know when they will be home?"

I grab my cell out of my pocket, it says :pm. "In about an hour", I say.

"Okay" he says "What is your name, young lady?"

"Melanie Jackson, sir"

"Tell them I will be back in precisely three hours, and they had better be here when I get here."

"I will, sir"

"That will be all. Have a good night, Miss Jackson" With that, he steps off our home's covered porch, and proceeds back to his police cruiser. I have a solid fifty minutes until my parents get home anyway.

I flip on the news, I don't really know why I did it, maybe just out of habit; I see the banner across the screen. Martial Law has been declared as of three-fifteen pm this afternoon. The passing banners say that a curfew is being enacted, and everyone must be in their homes by six pm, or they face arrest. More banners pass, saying that any terrorists will be arrested. The main headline, printed in bold, states that the U.S. Constitution has been suspended until further notice. I grab my iPhone and click on the Twitter app. I want to find out if this is some kind of hacker that hijacked Fox news, but an error message pops up, saying that I have no authority to use the Internet. No authority? Are they serious?!

My mind is already going through what will come next. Surely my parents won't run. They will wait in our home until the military officer gets here at five pm. They are probably on their way home, since there is no way they haven't heard the news. What could he possibly want with with my parents?, I wonder to myself. What if they want me? The Constitution has been revoked, we are no longer free people.

There is no way I will stand by and let this happen to my country. I have to do something. I cannot sit here and let this happen. I am not the kind of person to run from a fight when it will change our lives, our country.

If we are taken into government custody, my sister and I would likely get separated, and my cat would be taken away from me. He is as much family as my sister is to me. I have less than four hours to decide what I am going to do and how I am going to protect my family from the power-hungry President/dictator.

I got my Siamese cat, Tiger when I was eleven. I had been working on a plan to convince my mom to get me a cat for almost five months, and saving up my money for over a year. I was upstairs in my bedroom working on my plan when my mom and dad called me downstairs. When I came downstairs, they told me to sit down, so I did. That was when they told me would be going to adopt a Siamese cat the next weekend. I was so mad. I had been working for months trying to convince them to let me adopt a cat and then they spring it on me! So many hours of work for nothing. I didn't stay mad long. My heart melted the moment they showed me the picture of the tiny fuzz ball.

I hear my mother's white Honda Accord car pull into the driveway. I have to give her the news, unless she already knows. The door to the garage opens, my mom and sister, Eliza, walk in. They are laughing and talking happily, in such a care-free way that it kills me to have to break this terrible news to her. Once I tell her, I know our lives will never again be the same.

"Hey, Melanie", says Eliza.

"Hey Liz, how was tennis?", I ask trying to keep my voice from breaking.

"Fine"

"That's good"

"Eliza, go get a shower", my mom tells her. Eliza leaves, grumbling all the way up the stairs.

"Anybody call when I was gone?", Mom asks.

"No, but umm a military officer came.", I say, pointing towards the manilla envelope.

"What! When?"

"About an hour ago", I try to continue, "Have you seen or heard the news since before you left at two?"

"No. Why, what's going on. Traffic was crazy on the way home."

I have to tell her; I know i'm just wasting valuable time.

"Mom. The President declared Martial Law at three o'clock today" I am holding the TV remote. I had turned it off before she came in. I wanted to be the one to tell her, not the stupid TV. I click the power button, my arms are shaking and my palms are sweaty. She stands there in silence for what felt like an eternity, but in reality is only a minute or two before she says anything.

"Oh. My God." is all she says

"The military officer will be here at five pm. That's when curfew starts too. When is Dad going to be home?" she looks like she is not even listening. "Mom! This is serious! We have no rights as of three pm today. None."

"Do you think I don't know that, Melissa? But what can we do about it? Nothing! We can do nothing about it!" Tears gently leak from the corners of her eyes.

"Mom, you know I can't stay here. I have to go do something about it. I will not sit here while they strip our rights away. I have always fought for what is right. I won't stop now."

"I knew you wouldn't the second you said what is happening, but can you please wait to run off and save the world until after your father gets home."

"Sure, Mom. Okay." I think she knew when I said it that there would be no changing my mind. She never had been able to change my mind once I set it to something.

It is odd, this had always been my dream, however crazy and unrealistic, to be a part of a revolution. I never really thought it would happen to me, though. Just today, I had been running track at my high-school. In that moment though, I thought of something extremely selfish. I wouldn't get to sleep in my bed tonight, and it had already been a long day. I allowed a single tear to escape my eye, before I automatically wiped it away with the back of my hand. There would be no time for me to mourn the loss of my previous life. All that mattered now was this moment, the present. The past was past, and the future had yet to come.

Sometime after I replied to my mother, I had made my way up to my bedroom. I glance over at the clock. It is four-thirty. The military will be here in thirty minutes. I hear my mother yell at Lizzy from downstairs to get out of the bathroom. I don't blame her, I would not let my children leave my side, if I were her.

She then starts hysterically crying. I can hear her all the way up in my bedroom. I go downstairs to comfort my mom. She deserves to have someone hold her when she is not able to be the strong one. She knows that if I leave, she won't be able to come with me because she has a bad back. I move towards her slowly, then I hug her. I almost start crying, but I know I must be strong for her and my sister. It surprises me that I am able to do this, since I am usually the one who cries for any minute reason. Not this time. I will be the strong one, the reliable one. I have to be. I hear my father's car, a grey Acura, pull into the driveway.

"You should go upstairs", my mom tells me. I don't argue; I just go upstairs. I know I have only one option. Run for my life, along with my sister.

I make my way to my sister's bedroom door. I do a quiet but urgent knock on her door. She opens it and lets me in.

"Eliza, I am about to tell you something extremely important. I am telling you the truth when I say the President has declared Martial Law. The military is coming here, for God knows what reason", I glance over at the clock, "in twenty-five minutes."

"What? Are you serious, Melanie?" she asks me in a child's innocent voice.

"Yes, I am. I am going to give you two choices. Okay, Liz? Listen carefully"

"Okay"

"You can stay here and wait for the military to come. I can honestly not tell you what will happen at that point, but I know it will be bad. I do not know what will happen to you or Mom and Dad. Your second option is to come with me, on the run, where we will be able to stay together and keep Tiger with us. I know one thing for sure,it is not safe here, we will have no rights, and we will kept under stricter living conditions than this country has ever seen before." I say in a calm voice

"What are you going to do Mell?"

"I am going to run. With Tiger. If things ever go back to the way they were, I will return home to you and them. I will not force you to come along with me, and I can't promise we both won't suffer some hungry nights. But I can promise you this, I will stay with you, always. I will do everything in my power to feed you, give you a warm home, and clean clothes. We will have Tiger."

"Is there a chance you will stay?"

"No."

"Liz, you have to chose quickly. If you want to come, you will have to pack."

"Mell, please don't be mad, but I want to stay here. I can't run away. And what about Mom. She will miss me"

"It's okay. Eliza, I love you. Always remember that. Always."

"Are you taking the cat with you?"

"Yes"

"I guess that isn't debatable either is it?"

"Nope"

"One more thing, Melanie. Where are you going to go?"

"I have no idea. And it wouldn't be safe to tell you, anyway. Goodbye, Eliza. I love you."

"Bye Melanie. I love you too." We both hug each other tightly. I then leave her. I have to hurry. I need a head start.

I grab my backpack and dump all of my school books out of it carelessly, it's not like I will be needing them any time soon anyway. I throw on a black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. I pull a pair of black boots out of my closet. Next, I pull my long, blonde hair up into a high ponytail. I toss another pair of jeans, a few shirts, and some underwear into the bag.

Next, I rush into the bathroom, and get out the following: a full tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, a stick of deodorant, hairbrush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. If I want to be able to get a job, I can't look like a homeless teenager. I sneak downstairs and grab my mom's old GPS and power cord (it won't be any use if the battery is dead), and a bag of my cat's dry food. He will have to live without his wet food, it's just too heavy, and it would take up too much room in my bag to bother bringing along.

When I get back upstairs, I realize that my backpack is too full, but I need everything in it. My time is running out. I need to hurry. I decide to dig through my closet until I find something that will be suitable. I come across a black duffle bag. I switch everything from my backpack into the duffle bag. Now that I have a little spare room, I take my family's portrait out of the frame and gently place it in my bag.

I pull the black leash and harness for Tiger out of my top drawer in my dresser. I like to take him on walks in our yard during the spring through summer. That thought reminds me that I will need his flea and tick prevention medicine. Even if I am on the run, I don't want him getting those nasty bugs on him. I hurry into the bathroom and grab it. It is a small box, and will be able to easily fit in one of the outside pouches of the duffle bag. Now all I have to do is actually find Tiger, the cat who disappears whenever I need to locate him in a timely manner. I do a quick room-by-room search of the upstairs of my house. I find him sleeping soundly on my parents beds. I pick him up. While I am holding him, I check to make sure his collar with his ID tag attached is secure. It is. I take him to my bedroom and close the door, this way I can grab him and go.

I can hear my parents downstairs. They are in the midst of a heated argument. I glance outside; it is starting to get dark. The police will be here in ten minutes to arrest my parents. My phone dings, from some app notification. I won't be able to take my smartphone with me, I realize. They will be able to trace it. Even if I took the battery out, what use would a phone that you can't turn on be? Plus, the internet is prohibited now anyway. I check my Twitter and email accounts one final time, before shutting my phone off for good. They still won't allow me to access them. I still want to be able to listen to my music, so I get out my iPod Touch, earphones, and charger. I grab my DSLR camera, zoom lens, cleaning kit, and the charger as well. I toss everything in the duffle bag, except my camera, which I hang around my neck.

I can hear my parents crying. I slip my iPod Touch out of my pocket, it says five fifty-five. They will be here in five minutes. I go into my bedroom and close the door. I pull on my black leather boots and tie them up. They reach me mid-calf. I put the leash and harness on Tiger, grab my duffle bag, and do a mental check, making sure I have everything I need to survive.

Then I remember, I will need money. I empty my piggy bank, then I move on to my secret stash in the slit on my mattress. I have about one thousand dollars total. I have two thousand in my mother's bank account, but I have no way to access that. There are many reasons for my secret stash, but my main worry was that if I have all of my money in a bank, and something happens I will have nothing left. Now I am grateful that I did that, because if I hadn't, I would have only three hundred dollars. I put the money in my duffle, buried under my clothing. Then I reach into my closet and pull out my black faux-fur zip-up jacket. Although it is spring, it still gets cold at night.

I don't have much time, I think. Right then, the doorbell rings. I glance outside. There are at least eleven military SUV's outside the house. I will have to leave out the back door. I pick up Tiger, now fully secured in his leash and harness. I throw my duffle over my shoulder, and leave my bedroom for the last time. I would like to look around and memorize every last detail of it, but I don't have time. I hear my father answer the door. My mother is standing supportively next to him, her hand gently rested on his shoulder. They must be terrified. I am, but I won't, can't, let it show. That is the only way I will be able to stay free.

I will not be able to get down the stairs to get out of the back door. They will see me. Mentally rolling through the possibilities, it hits me. I will use the fire escape ladder. I will have to go out the spare bedroom, since it faces the back of the house. If I went out my bedroom window, I would be caught before I was even off of the ladder. I stuff Tiger in my black North Face jacket, zipping it up until only his head is showing. I set the duffle bag down, then I proceed to take the screen out of the spare room window. Next, I pull the ladder out from under the bed. I open the window as far as it will go; next, I hook it onto the window. Then, as quietly as I possibly can, I roll it down.

I go back into the hallway. They now have my parents both handcuffed, and my parents are standing there, with their chins up. I lift my camera up and take some photos, rapidly. They hear the camera clicks, and look up. They see me. I see them.

"I love you Mom and Dad!" I yell, my voice cracks, full of raw emotion. Right after that, I sprint into the spare room, throw the duffle bag strap over my shoulder, start making my way over the window ledge, and finally, down the ladder. This would have been much easier if two officers were not yelling, with their guns trained on me, from up in the window. It would have also been helpful if I was using both hands to go down, not just one. I had to go down single handedly because I had to support Tiger, who is currently scared out of his mind, scratching and clawing my stomach. I am nearly on the ground now. It is so close. I jump down, since I am only a couple feet off of the ground.

That is when I start to do what I do best. I start to run, faster than I have ever run before. I have the stamina to keep this up for quite a while, since I am on the high school track team. I have one arm wrapped around my cat, who has decided to play dead, in my jacket, and the other one is pumping. The weight of the duffle bag and my cat slow me down after a while. I have to find somewhere to hide. Eventually, I slow to a fast walk. They haven't caught me yet. They probably were not expecting a teenager to take off out the back window. I am in the center of town. I want to get a coffee at the local coffee shop, but I have a cat in my jacket and the whole country is under curfew. I pull out my iPod, it is just after ten at night.

My new mission is to find somewhere to spend the night. Just then, a police cruiser whizzed by, undoubtedly searching the streets for me. I need someplace I can stay, until I figure out my next step, whatever that may be. It will need to be somewhere solitary, where they will not think to look for me. I am stroking the top of Tiger's head, as he starts to try and escape my jacket. I am walking down the town's main street, on my way out of town. Tiger, who is desperately trying to escape, lets out an exasperated cry. I decide to let him down, but first I check to make sure his leash is secure and tightly wrapped around my right hand. I unzip my jacket and place him gently on the ground. What have I gotten myself into?

We have been walking for what feels like forever when I come upon the grocery store's parking lot. It is deserted. I pull out my iPod to check the time, it is just after one in the morning. I glance down at my panting cat. I need to find somewhere to spend the night, even if it isn't free. It is starting to get colder, I can feel it on my nose, even though I am hot from walking I don't know how many miles. I bend down and pick Tiger up, although he has been outside before, these last miles have been extremely hard on him. I stuff him in my jacket and continue on my trek for a place to get a few hours rest. For me and Tiger.

Finally, after a few more miles of walking, I come upon a motel. Half of the letters that spell "motel" are not lit up, and the building looks like it should be condemned. Sadly, beggars can't be choosers, as my mother used to say. I just hope they allow cats. I can probably bribe them to keep quiet, if the military comes snooping around tonight. I decide to go in. I can afford to stay one night.

I can see a man inside, but the door is locked. Probably because of the curfew. I bang on the door repeatedly until he comes to it "Hello?" I call out. A burly man with a grey beard stumbles out. "I would like to rent one of your rooms for the night" I declare through the door.

"What's a girl your age doin' out this time of night. It's dangerous out there, you know. Specially now that there's a curfew" he says while he opens the door.

"How much?" I ask, "It is just for me and my cat"

"Ain't got no boys comin' in later, have you?"

"No, sir, I don't. It will just be me and Tiger."

"Thought you said no boys."

"Tiger is my cat. Sir, please, I really need somewhere to stay the night." Then, it seems, he finally notices my state of utter disarray. My hair, which had been pulled up into a high ponytail was falling out, my face probably had dirt and sweat an inch thick, and my hands were oozing blood from scabs that had only recently started to form. Those had come when I was rushing down the side of my house, while holding a cat.

"What are you running from, girl?" What am I supposed to say in response to that? I am too tired to make up some false story. What would be the point of lying anyway? So I say the only logical thing to me at the time. The truth. "Them. They stole my parents and my sister. I had to run. I could not end up alone, away from my family. I need to do something to stop them. What they are doing is not right, and I won't stand here and let it happen."

"Alright, you can stay" he says, "A one bed, one bath room is free for those who think for themselves. But please be gone by tomorrow; I can't have them officers snooping around this place. Never know what they might find."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your room is down the hall to the left. Remember, be gone eight in the morning."

I make my way into the room. Opening the door, I see that it is dark and gloomy, but I couldn't care less. I have to convince myself to go into the bathroom. I decide that a shower is probably my best course of action. After the night i've had, I can't imagine getting in bed without one. I strip out of my clothing, and turn on the water to heat up. Tiger comes over and starts begging me for food. When he does, I notice how completely filthy he is aswell. I pick up the cat and jump into the shower, trying to squirt some shampoo on his back. This goes as well as you can imagine giving a cat a shower will. By the time I let him out of the shower, I look like I was just in a war zone. The cat smells like flowers. I have done my job.

After my shower, I begrudgingly get back into my previous clothing. I have no idea if I will have to make a quick escape in the night, and if I do have to, I will not have time to be changing out of my pj's and into my dark jeans and boots. Just in case, I decide to sleep on top of the bed sheets. I can only hope that I am able to get a full night's sleep. After I am once again fully dressed, I go in search of a soaked cat. My next step is to blow-dry him. This ought to go over well.

It is two in the morning by the time I get into the bed. I lie awake for hours, unable to sleep. How, with all that has happened, all that has changed, can I possibly sleep. I think back over the past few months. There has been trouble stirring, protests. Innocent people have been imprisoned for showing their beliefs. I have seen it with my own eyes. I never knew it had gone this far, that they would take it this far. I try my best to stay on top of political issues, but some things we don't know. And what we don't know can hurt us. How could I have known that my own government would be taken over by radicals. The people voted for them. I would never have. My parents didn't. That is why they were taken. Why my sister was taken. But really, I have no way to prove that my theory is true, that my parents didn't do anything illegal. All of these thoughts to anyone else, would just be a girls panicked three am thoughts.

Eventually, I drift off to a fitful sleep, only to find myself amidst a terrifying false reality of my mind's making. I am in a dark prison cell. The air is cold and damp. The metal bars are cold against my warm, sweaty hands. There is a terror rotted deep inside of my mind and body. I turn around to face my parents. They are so weak looking. They are shackled to the cinderblock walls, as if my mother, or even father, could escape this nightmarish prison cell. A guard walks up to the cell we are all currently inhabiting. He pulls his hand out from behind his back. Grasped tightly between his hands is a black military grade pistol. He takes aim at my mother. I hear a scream, as I run in front of my mother. It must have been mine. If he wants to kill my parents, he will have to get through me first. He pulls the trigger.

I am asleep for a whole two hours, before I am awakened, screaming, by a banging on my door. The sound pierces through my nightmare. Flying off of the bed, I inadvertently toss the cat on to the floor. I rush to the door. Swinging it open, I am about to yell at the disturbed about this interruption at this ungodly hour. It is the man.

He has one statement, "Run. They are here." I give him an abrupt nod, saying in one quick motion that although I slept all of two hours, that I understand and I am grateful for the advanced warning. I grab my iPod and the few items I had not placed in the bag a few hours prior. Next, I follow his directions, I grab my bag, stuff my cat in my jacket, and I run. I run like my life depends on it. It does. My eyes blurry from sleep, my body weary of the constant running. Pain laces through my legs. My muscles are straining, but I cannot afford to think about pain or sleep exhaustion. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind and I run. Somehow, Tiger manages to keep himself calm and does not start squirming. I have no idea how long this adrenalin rush will last. My head is pounding. No, I yell at myself, I cannot afford to get a migraine now. I cannot get tired.

There are so many things that I feel like doing rather than this. None of those things include running from the corrupt government, but I can't let them catch me. There is no guarantee that I will survive, if I get caught. What are the chances that a government, taking over every aspect of a country will let a young teenager, who is clearly against them, walk away completely unscathed. They won't. At this point, I know I will not get out of this without shedding blood. None of us will. I will not quit, but I also know they won't quit either.

Running down a dark alleyway, I come across an abandoned warehouse. I kick the door in. This will have to do, until I can catch my breath. I run through the building, but as I rush through my ankle gets caught. I hear an awful cracking noise. I yell out, before I can stop myself. I have never felt anything like this before, but I know it is not the worst pain I will ever feel. As my vision clouds, I notice a trap door. I toss my bag down the hole. I pass out only for a minute, but it was long enough. I can hear them making their way towards me.

I could fight, but I have nothing. I have no gun. They all have guns, tasers, and God knows what else. They have surrounded me now. My ankle is most likely broken. I can't run. I'm trapped. There are at least eight grown men around me that I can see.

"Put your hands on your head!", one of them yells at me. I do. It causes me pain, not physically, but mentally. They approach me cautiously. One of them takes Tiger from me. I hold my head high and remain quiet. I will not say anything to these men. Another grabs my arms and puts them in the cuffs. They pull me up from the ground, but I can't put any weight in my ankle. One of them each grab my arm, leading me to the car.

When we reach the outside, I rip free from the one soldier and kick the other one. I sprint away, although my ankle and hands being cuffed are making it extremely difficult. I might be in good shape, but these men are in great shape. They are on me in less than a minute, throwing me to the ground rather forcefully. In the process, one of them hits me on my temple.

***********************Later that day*******************************************

My eyes start to open and I wonder where I am now. The pain in my head is awful, then I remember what led to the pain. I fully open my eyes and look around. I am in a cell. The cell is completely devoid of any furniture. There isn't even a cot, as you would expect in a cell of this type. I try to stand up, but the pain in my ankle leads me to remember the circumstances that led to my capture in the first place. The walls are cement. THe room is basically a cement box with one door, that is pass-lock protected. There is a light in the ceiling, which causes me to wonder how long I was out. There are no windows, so I can't use the sun as a clock. I wonder if they will ever send anyone in to check on me. My stomach rumbles just then, reminding me that I haven't eaten since the day I left home. I had a quick lunch that day. A simple lunch meat sandwich and a coke. I now wish I had thought to pack some energy bars, not that it would have mattered at this point anyway.

The wood door opens, startling me out of my thoughts. The person who came in is a man, dressed in a full military uniform. His hand does not leave his waist, where I know his weapon is located. His badge says his name is Jones. He is a general. This can't be good, I think, Why would they send a general to interrogate a teenage girl? I remain on the floor, not that my ankle would allow me to stand anyway. By this time, it is swollen to about three times its normal size. His hair is cropped short, and he wears a very serious expression on his face. My heart is beating about a thousand times per minute, but I keep my face straight. I will not show them any weakness. I wonder if they are keeping my family in this building.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" he asks, finally breaking the mutual silence.

"Where did you take my cat" I ask, knowing he was hoping i would start begging for my freedom and apologizing for my earlier actions. I would, if I was actually sorry, but i'm not.

"You are under arrest for failure to follow direct Army orders and failure to abide by the national curfew, not to mention the many other charges that are sure to come up."

"Have you ever heard of the Constitution? You have no right to be arresting innocents."

"I have every right to. And you will address me as sir, is that understood?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?" He is livid by this point. Challenging his authority over me is not going to get me anywhere, especially out of this cell. So, with great resentment, I say, "Yes, sir"

"In case you didn't know, child, the Constitution was suspended when our President enacted Martial Law. You, i'm sure, already knew this though."

"I do understand what it is, but I do not understand why it was enacted." Too caught up in my statement, I forgot to add "sir" to the end.

He slaps me. Hard. "I told you to address me and all of you superiors as 'sir'. Do not make that mistake again, or I will make sure it never happens again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir" I mumble.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you?"

"Yes, sir!" I yell, fully under control of my emotions.

"And as to your earlier inquiry, it is none of your business, child." He continues, "Your punishment will be determined later, but until then, you will remain here." He then abruptly enter the exit code and leaves my cell. I mentally kick myself for not watching the keys he entered. There goes my escape plan.

Over the next few days, I drift in and out of consciousness. On what I believe to be my third day in the cell, without any food, water, or bathroom, a young soldier brings me a sandwich and a (plastic) cup of water. Darn. As he leaves, I watch the code he types into the lock. I memorize it as he types the numbers. Before I make my attempted escape, I decide to eat the sandwich and drink the water. I have been starving for the last three days. Sometimes the hunger cramps got so bad that I would almost cry out, but I refused to give in to them. They were testing my strength and willpower.

Now that I finished eating, I make my way over to the passlock. I type in the code, and the red blinking light turns green. I hear the internal locking mechanism click, as it unlocks. I cautiously proceeded to open the door. I open it enough so that I can look down the hallway, hopefully without being detected. The hallway, to my surprise, is clear. My body is shaking, from having not eaten in so long, and my stomach feels queasy. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten the food after all.

Right then I decide to take my chances of being caught. I sprint down the hallway, looking for an exit sign. I hear someone coming down the hallway behind me. I quickly look for a place to hide. There is a door labeled for a janitor. I duck in just before the person behind me rounds the corner. It is the janitor. He has a massive trash bin that he is pushing, presumably to the outside, where he can dispose it. The man goes into a room right across from me. This is a good option as any, I think. I jump in the trash bin, burying myself under the smelly, disgusting trash.

When the janitor comes back out, he dumps more trash on my head. I hold back my temptation to jump out and run. This is the easiest option to get out of the building I can think of right now, so that is not an option. Then I remember. Tiger. I can't go back for him now though. Plus, I don't know where he is, or if he is even still alive. I will have to go back for him later, but I do not have that option right now. If I go back they will catch me, and I know it. It greatly pains me, but I stay hidden in the trash bin.

The janitor pushes the large trash bin down a few hallways. After a few turns, he finally comes to a stop. I hear him enter a security code. Next, a door slides open, squeaking in its tracks. The man pushes the bin, which I am in, outside of the army's compound. I can see the sun coming through the layers of trash above me. To my utter surprise, he parks the trash bin right next to a bunch of other trash bins, similar to the one I am in.

When I am sure he went back into the compound, I get out of the trash bin and dust myself off. I look around and realize, to my great disappointment, that there is a barbed wire fence around the entire case. Off to my left, I spot about ten army vehicles, with open backs. They are about twenty yards away, but I once again sprint to them without being detected. I jump in the back of the one closest to me. I decide to hide under one of the tarps in the back. I will just have to wait here until someone drives this truck out of the compound. All I can hope for is that they won't do a very thorough investigation of the back.

It is hours–or what feels like hours–before anyone comes to the truck. By that time, I had almost fallen asleep under the blanket in the dark space. I know it was not very smart, but my body is still severely fatigued, and my ankle, although looking better, still hurts when I put any weight on it. Luckily, it is just a bad sprain. If anything worse had happened, I might not have ever gotten out of there.

The person, who I did not see get in, starts the truck. He backs out of the parking lot, making his way to what I would assume to be the front gate. After traveling a short distance, the truck comes to a stop. I can just barely make out what seems to be two or three voices at the front of the truck. One set of footsteps approaches the back, where I am hiding. He doesn't do a thorough inspection, instead just a quick glance, when he calls back to someone up front, "All clear! Open gate!" I feel like I am choking. I realize that is because I have been holding my breath this whole time. The truck starts up again and pulls out of the compound. Now I just have to find a good time to escape the truck, without being spotted.

That time comes a few miles later, when the military truck pulls into a gas station to refuel. The driver then proceeds to leave the truck and go into the mini-mart that is attached to the gas station. Being the perfect opportunity, I take a running leap out of the truck.

I ran for miles until I fully realized what I had accomplished. I escaped from a military compound. With no outside help. It was actually easier than I had expected it to be. My next step is to try to make it back to my town. Although I have no idea where I am, I need to make it back. Hopefully my bag is still where I left it under the trap door in that old abandoned warehouse. I continue walking down the deserted highway. Eventually, I come across a small rural town.

As I am walking, a car slows next to me. I look over and notice the rusting Ford pick-up truck. An elderly man, probably in his late eighties is driving the dilapidated truck. His body appears to be just as in need of attention as the truck he drives.

"You lost, missy", he says in his gruff voice. I keep my response brief, since I have no idea who this man is.

"Sort of. I know where i'm going." I say.

"Where are you going"

"Massachusetts."

"Me too. My daughter and her family live there. Do you need a lift?"

"Sure", I shrug. He leans over and opens the door for me. I get in. What other option do I have? I don't want to get arrested again for being out past curfew.

We ride most of the trip in silence, except for the occasional grumble about bad drivers. We are both too deep in our own thought to bother attempting to converse with one another. It turns out that the man has to drive through my town to get to his daughter's town. I ask him to let me out near the center of town. From there, I can make my way to the warehouse. I can only hope my bag and cash are still well hidden from sight.

"Thank you, sir, for the ride", I say.

"Your welcome, missy", he replies. I climb out of his truck and start towards the abandoned warehouse.

It doesn't take me long to find the warehouse. My town isn't exactly the kind of place where buildings are crumbling and falling down all over the place. I hurriedly, but cautiously this time, make my way to the trap door. When I open it, I almost yell out in happiness. My bag and camera are exactly where I left them. I dig through the bag until I find my money stash. It is all still there.

I pull my iPod out of the bag. It will be curfew in a few minutes. I guess this is where I will be spending the night. At least it's not a jail cell, I think to myself. I decide to stay in my filthy clothes, until tomorrow after I take a shower. No use getting my limited supply of clean clothing dirty. After tossing and turning a few times, my body finally gives in to sleep.