“We’re leaving, baby. We’re leaving now,” Samantha choked out.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, eyeing both her parents. Samantha stole a quick glance at John before uncertainly looking back at her daughter.
“We’re leaving, baby. We’re leaving now,” Samantha choked out.
“Now?” Rosie asked disbelievingly. Samantha and John nodded in unison. In her sleep deprived state, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Where are we gonna go?”
“No questions, Rosie,” John ordered. “Just follow us.” Rosie peeked over at Samantha, who gave her a look that clearly said, ‘Trust me.’ Rosie then bobbed her head in agreement and walked over to her parents.
“You ready?” John asked, taking a deep breath. Samantha said nothing; she just briefly looked back at their old shack but turned around almost instantly, confidence and resolution hardening her face. Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t worried at all. Bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, she wore an air of eagerness and excitement, completely oblivious to the possible dangers awaiting.
Hand in hand, the family of three turned their backs on their old life, in search of an unknown freedom. It was pitch black outside, with only the infinite number of starts and the bright, shimmering moon to lead the way. They didn’t dare let a sound escape their lips, left solely to hope that the whistling winds would mask their heavy, uneven breathing.
Suddenly, noises were heard not far behind them.
“D’you see somethin’?” a man whispered faintly.
“Looks like people, doesn’t it? Can’t tell how many though,” another vaguely familiar voice responded.
“You don’t think it’s – you don’t think they’re runnin’ away, do ya?”
“Samantha,” John’s throaty voice breathed urgently. “Run. Please. Take Rosie with you and run.” Besides the occasional hooting of owls, a tense silence spread through the air. Shock doused over Samantha like ice-cold water, leaving her hardly able to part her lips, much less lift her feet and run. “Please, Samantha, before they see you two. They don’t know that there are three of us yet. Do it for me.” John was nearly begging now. Samantha tore her brown eyes away from the two men, hidden by the nighttime mist, and locked them with her husband’s blue ones. Apart from pain and sorrow, Samantha noticed a certain emotion buried deep inside him, but her fogged head failed to decipher it clearly. It weighed down his eyes, making him appear much older than he really was.
“But – but what about you? You’re coming too, r – right? Or –” Samantha’s voice faltered, and her eyes widened in sudden comprehension.
John didn’t respond. He merely shook his head, glancing nervously towards where the voices had issued from. Words had failed him, undoubtedly due to the quivering lump in his throat. But just as Samantha opened her mouth in protest, she saw that John’s jaw was set. He had made up his mind, and no one could change that.
“John,” Samantha sobbed quietly. “Promise me you’ll come back. “Promise me.”
“I’ll try,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground, as he tried and failed to make his tears go
unnoticed. “Now, remember. I love you both.” Only when the footsteps of the two men could be heard
banging across the dirt fields, Samantha took off towards the woods of freedom, clutching on to
Rosie’s hand as if it were a lifeline.
John stayed back, willing himself to stay put and not run off with them. Whatever it took, he had to
make sure they got by safely.
He shut his eyes, painstakingly thinking of his daughter, and , and how Samantha said she would soon prove the world wrong. Maybe it was worth it. ‘No,’ he told himself defiantly. ‘It is definitely worth it.’