Today’s caveat: I skated for the first time since before surgery, I worked on getting ready for an art festival tomorrow, and I went to a birthday party. I’m tired. Very tired. But I refuse to give up this early in the month, and I wanted to add another character to the mix. So. Here’s today part. With more time and energy…but at least something is written!
The three teens stood close together under the trees around the Asylum. The moon glowed through the branches, but only a sharp eye would have seen the young people standing there. They wore black, as they always did, and hoods hid their faces.
Sneaking into the Asylum had been Hannah’s idea. She’d longed to see what was inside for as long as she could remember. It was rumored that her grandmother lived in the Asylum, but whenever Hannah asked her parents, they hushed her and reminded her that all of her grandparents were dead.
The boys with her had quickly agreed to join in her adventure. Of course they wanted to go. That’s what they said. Neither would ever admit otherwise to Hannah when under her gaze. But looking up at the high walls, both boys wondered if they liked Hannah that much.
She sensed their hesitation. “I’m going first,” she said. “Don’t follow me if you’re scared.”
The boys insisted they weren’t scared. They said one of them should go first and make sure it was safe.
“My plan. My glory,” she replied. In her gloved hands she held the hook and the rope she’d stolen from her father’s workshop. She stepped out from under the tree, steadied herself, and tossed the hook up. The first few tries sent the large hook hurtling back at them. They boys jumped backwards. She kept trying.
Eventually, the hook caught. She pulled herself up. At the top of the wall were spikes and embedded in the concrete was broken glass. It took effort, but she’d been training for this. She managed to balance herself with one foot on each side of a spike. The heel of her boot cracked a bit of glass. She could see into the courtyard. Finally, for the first time she saw the front doors of the Asylum.
A light glowed above the grand doors, but otherwise the building was in darkness. The moonlight reflected on window panes. She was surprised that there were no bars on most of the windows. She’d assumed there’d be bars.
One of the boys called to her.
Hannah looked over the grounds, and it seemed safe. She was about to say something to the boys, when the sound of a rusty hinge caught her attention. She looked up at the roof. She gasped.
A boy in pajamas was climbing out a window. The roof was steep. Surely the child was going to fall.
Hannah bent down and picked up the rope. She began to coil it into her hands.
“Hannah?” said one of the boys. “What are you doing?”
With all the rope in her hand, she let it fall to the other side of the wall. The little boy, she notice, was still standing on the roof, his hands outstretch as if he were catching moonlight.
“Han!” said the other teenage boy down on the ground. “Hannie!”
She looked down at the two of them, gave a wave, and began her journey down into the Asylum.