Chapter V

I wake up in a foreign bed. It couldn’t have been long, it’s still raining outside. There is an old man by my bed. He smiles at me. I feel reassured. I realize they haven’t caught me. I know their prisons. They don’t have beds in there. They only have cold floors. Dirty floors. Puddles of piss everywhere. The smell of shit everywhere. Cold. Dark.

This room is nothing like it. It’s clean. Reminds me of the house of my grandparents. Old pictures on the walls. Dusty fake flowers on the table. A piano in a corner.

“I have to go.” I say.

“They are still looking for you,” the old man replies. “I know who you are. I can help you.”

I don’t know why I trust him. He gives me a sense of security. I fall asleep again.