I had not been able to sleep  because ideas of what I could do to escape was racing through my mind. I wanted out of this place worse than anything, I wanted the freedom that I use to know, and I wanted to go back to the way things were before, but I knew nothing would be the same.

I woke Kirsten up later that night, and told her of my plan, one that would unfold in a matter of a couple of days. We would talk about our plans in whispers, we did not talk when we thought someone was coming in though.

The man who was holding us captive discovered that I loved books, and would sneak up books, poetry and fiction. I was grateful for the books because they were a way to escape Kirsten and I had always had a love for poetry.

We cherished the books, not only because it gave us something to do but we were able to spell out our plans with those books, it was kind of like a secret code to us, not what that we could write about anywhere not even in the pages of Kirsten’s journals. The books were also a source of comfort when we got frustrated we could open them up and allow ourselves to drift into the pages.

He brought in books like Treasure Island, and that was a good escape for us, but we liked the mysteries and Sherlock Holmes books too.

Kirsten and I slipped notes to each other in the pages of the books, with the words all jumbled up. Notes like When they sleep, the moon wakes...Our code for trying to find away outin the moonlight. Maybe we weren’t clever with these notes but we weren’t really looking for clever, we were looking for a way to hide our meaning was all and this worked  With a new plan even Kirsten’s general entries were looking more positive, at least the one’s she was sharing with me. Just a couple of nights before we decided to go completely through with our plan to escape she wrote and shared with me what she wrote:

For the first time in a long time I feel as if there is hope in me getting out of here, I can imagine once again what it feels like to be outside, to feel a cool breeze gently blowing your hair, to feel the rain, I can imagine watching Sarah walk down the isle at her graduation, and me being there with her, telling her how proud I was of her.

It feels good to have Faith, to feel if I am going to be free again, it amazes me that something as basic as a simple plan can make a difference, make you feel as if you have a purpose and a point.

The next couple of days passed rather quickly, and then two nights after Kirsten wrote that entry and shared it with me, we made our way out through a window passage we found in the basement. It was surprising how quickly we were able to sneak away, but the car that sounded near us as we ran was proof that we didn’t escape unnoticed...