So, the time had arrived. I had been planning for months. But, perhaps, it was for that reason I was so tense – because it was finally time. Time to get over the wall and be reunited. Nervous was what I felt, but would I let it show? I had a job to do, and I wasn’t to rest until it was done, until I was free.
Getting up, I took one last long look at the plans I had spent so long making in secret, taking in every precise measurement and word. As you may have guessed, I was trying to make time slow down, to make the time I knew would have to come, come slower, though, in my heart of hearts, I knew it was no use. Steadily, I picked up two steel balls as heavy as a grown man who hadn’t taken much exercise recently and stuffed them into my pockets. They weighed me down tremendously, but it made no difference to my master plan. Outside, there it was, the great long wall stretching out majestically in front of me. the more I stared the more I knew I had to move on and get it over with. Ducking behind a bush I make a cat-like whining noise that, as I had planned, was sure to attract the attention of the nearest guard. It did just that, round the edge of the bush came the surly, deep-voiced guard who played the main roll of my plan. Yelling at me, he advanced but I was ready. I had never hurt someone before and did it now with the greatest regret, lobbing the steel ball clearly onto the head of the soon to be unconscious man.
Putting the clothes on took a while but as I pulled them my mind was allowed to dwell on the reason I had come into this mess in the first place. When I was very small my mother had died, I could not remember anything about her, apart from her singing. It was the most beautiful singing in the world, with no exaggeration. It was a gift I had proudly inherited and guarded secretly. My dad had been stranded of the west when the wall was put up, he had gone to see his friends and never returned.
Now fully dressed it a brown guards uniform, I grabbed the abandoned gun and marched proudly over to the gate. Walking straight through was not an option, even for a guard, as I discovered too late. A grim faced man at the gate entrance asked to see my ‘ID’. I hadn’t bargained on this. Fishing feverishly in my pockets, I found what I was looking for – a small card with a name, age and photo on it. “This is you?” inquired the guard with a pronounced note of spite in his voice, “No offence, but I don’t see the likeness.” He turned the card around to show me a man with next to no hair, plus, all that remained was a dirty sort of grey. the guard was looking at my long, straw coloured hair. Comprehension dawning in his dull eyes.
Realising it was my only option, I ran for it. Pushing through the gate I bolted for my life, my greatest fear was confirmed when I heard bangs, the unmistakable bangs of a gun. I took the risk, and turned to see five speeding bullets heading for my chest. Is it too late already? I thought as I bent my legs to spring, is this it?
Keep Writing! 