Captured

Dawn had set in. The feathery clouds, as if with no burden, floated gently over the vast blue meadow. The robins sang their old sweet song, a feast to the ears. The stream, as usual, broke into peals of laughter while quenching the thirst of the pale lilies and daffodils. The soft yet warm sunshine hit the eyelashes of young Richard, relieving him from a deep slumber. He stretched, twisted and yawned, only to be greeted by his tiny mates, the robins. He whispered gently into their ears in hushed tones, some sort of delicate secret that does not wish to be disclosed.


Richard, probably a young lad of thirteen, was an extremely introverted teen who enjoyed the company of the soft darkness he had created around himself.
He had silky brown hair that loosely fell over his forehead. The freckles on his face seemed to reveal his nature - secretive yet noticeable. He had brown  dreamy eyes that had an unknown end in its depth, unlike his parents' bright blue eyes.



He lived in Stanley Orphanage of Charity under the supervision of Ms. Margaret, the matron. He absolutely hated the bland, watery food which made his stomach go for a toss. The very sight of the matron angered him, but it was soon replaced by a sigh of helplessness and captivity. The feeling made him want to escape, wriggle off from the tight grip of this uneasy feeling. It made him yearn for his long-lost parents, for whom he had never felt an urge to think about and reminisce his terrible past. All he had was a blurred, tattered old photograph of his parents, which was the only clue to how his parents looked like. He felt like a rebel, who was refused his rights.



The window creaked open. Cool breeze rushed in, as if it wanted to fill the emptiness in his whirling mind. He was firm with his decision. This was his chance, he reminded himself. He held the window sill tight, assuring himself that this was the last time he was going to experience the pain of this hell.

He hushed and quietly tip-toed along the corridor, careful not to attract any attention. Meanwhile, he imagined the expression the Matron would have in the morning and chuckled in glee.


It was his first whiff of independence. The chill breeze filled him with confidence and courage, readying him to face anything, come what may.

He took a deep breath, making up his mind and walked slowly over the roof. His inevitable fear and anxiety returned, in an effort to smother his newly- found courage but he shook it off. The raging fire in him did not allow him to do so.



He shut his eyes tight and clenched his fists hard, trying to balance on the wire. Somehow, he managed to cross over. He heaved a sigh of relief.


He ran and ran, away from the orphanage, laughing his head off like a maniac, galloping and leaping his way to liberty.

When he reached roughly half a mile, he struggled to catch his breath and was drenched in sweat. That was when he saw it.

It was a dingy, gloomy tunnel that seemed to have not felt the touch of mankind. After a while, he saw a speck of light in distance. It happened to be a train! As it advanced further towards him, it roused his curiosity. It was a rusty old one, its chimney puffing out clouds of smoke that engulfed him. He coughed and spluttered out, his lungs scorched. He hopped on the footboard, full of anticipation and hope for his destination.



He met an old man, his stained teeth that had once been chewing tobacco. They looked like a cluster of weeds sprouting out wildly, sprawling in all directions. This fella had definitely seen better days, he was sure. His face was haggard and wrinkled like a walnut. It had a touch of gloom and sadness. Richard felt a twinge in his heart when he listened to his story. The both seemed to understand each other's emotions and feelings and shared a special, unbreakable bond. Hours flew by as they indulged in small talk and gradually fell silent, as they watched the sun sink in the crimson sky hand in hand, towards a future of uncertainty.