A sleep-deprived pair of eyes focused upon the dark, dirty ceiling. Then they looked without seeing around the attic repeatedly; nervously; anxiously. The house was filled with an almost forced silence--an unnatural quiet that represented the perfect opportunity to slip away. A teenage girl sat up quickly on the floor she had slept on for countless nights. Using the little light that filtered through the dusty windows, she looked to her younger brother’s crumpled body and shook him awake. His eyes snapped open, looking just as restless as she felt. Without even the slightest hesitation, she stood to her feet weakly, her brother following suit. Her feet stealthily slid over the flooring and in front of the empty boxes sitting, like many others, in the corner of the room and reached quietly behind it for their bags. She set them aside and pulled out a wrinkled, old envelope(also hidden amongst the boxes). She then counted the money inside, praying that John and Kristen hadn’t discovered it. They hadn’t. Each bill laid undisturbed inside the envelope, crisp and new like it was when her neighbor smuggled it into the house and up in the attic. Having secured the bags to their bodies and without any resistance from her abusive guardians, she reached up with her hand and felt around the top of an old bookshelf for the rope they had created. The brother silently opened the window and cringed slightly as the wind blew in. They extended the rope down the side of the house, then tied it to a rusted(but sturdy) hook attached to one of the slanted attic walls and proceeded towards the ground. The girl--having been first down the rope--touched her toes to the grass with uncertainty, then climbed all the way down and out of the way for her sibling. They look over their shoulders for anyone following them. Then, with new found determination, they were gone.

The girl’s chest heaved uncomfortably as her scarred figure dashed under the moonlight. The boy limped quickly behind, holding her hand. Their hearts beat with fear, fascination, exhaustion, anxiety, and excitement as rain began to fall over their poorly clothed skin. Their surroundings became more civilized, but they kept running. They dashed in between people who stared after them in wonder under the umbrellas and came to rest at a bus stop. The attic of their home was all they knew; seeing the city’s light illuminate over the people and the loud, bustling noise of cars and shouting people and the distant sound of trains took their breath away. The boy propped himself slightly unto his sister. The smell of delicious foods were mixed in with the fresh and surprisingly calm scent of rain. They pulled another envelope out of one of the bags and revealed an address to a motel located in Chicago, the city they were in currently. The brother looked to his sister in awe and opened his mouth to speak. It was at that time that things took a turn. A turn that some would say was more like a transition into how things came to be in the end, or that some actually considered the beginning; The very beginning of the rising action--before the mountain in the plot actually came to be formed, and the girl felt like she was being pulled into a world that she would never fully understand.

***

Another pair of exhausted eyes stared at a computer screen wearily, it’s light having become a given to the observer. Although the eyes had been through this repeated cycle countless nights before, they never seemed to last long enough to finish the work that the were to analyse. A young man sat tired and overworked behind a computer with a few other agents in the room, scanning for an illegal website to uncover the final piece to solving a case. It was a test to give him a hands-on experience in what offical specialists were to do, and he was an intern on the verge of proving his candidacy for the position after high school. Having spent two hours searching, he had finally discovered the page in question. The site appeared to be nothing but a page for ordering takeout from a restaurant, but the owner was the main suspect of kidnapping children and posting prices for them over the black market. Their site was the link to an entire chain of dealers, whether it were drugs or unlicensed firearms. The man prefered to work through his skills in technology and examination, rather than where things became a stretch...such as when he tries to become social. He had been diagnosed with autism when he was 3 years old, and as much as he lacks social skill, he has amplified hacking and mathematical knowledge. Getting immediately to work, he typed away on the coding, never averting his gaze from the screen. He smiled wearily when he saw a loophole in the long pattern of numbers. Gotcha.

That moment the phone rang with vigor, jolting him out of his trance and the screen went black. Another computer caught and damaged. His superiors sighed in annoyance, having been watching over him. One of the superiors picked up, nodded, and answered. "Intern, it’s for you." Would it kill them to call him by his name? He cursed silently under his breath as he finally dragged himself out of his seat. He stumbled slightly and held himself onto the edge of a table: his legs were asleep. Pulling himself along, he reached the phone with slight irritation and waited for a voice. "Intern," his boss spoke on the other end. "Your test is being delayed until tomorrow. It’s late, and frankly no one can work with exhaustion pulling their eyes shut. Unless,you hacked that site already?" The man remained silent for a bit. "No." "We’re on a tight schedule here, we don’t have time for games. Hurry it up. We’ve been hearing the clientele boom with reports of missing children. If you can’t handle it, that will be marks off your candidacy. Anyway, go home and rest. You have a lot of work ahead of you in the morning."

The man looked blankly at the phone in silence then hung up. He turned and picked up his jacket then headed towards the building door. "Intern!" "Where do you think your going, dismissing yourself without reporting to us?" He stopped and said one word. "Home." He walked away and the others followed him. They entered the parking lot and located their vehicle. The colleges squeezed into a car and the man stood outside staring in with an uncomfortable look on his face. He stepped away. "Get in." He shook his head and pointed towards the bus stop a little ways down the street. The group exchanged looks, but then turned and gave an approving nod. "Goodnight, then. I trust you know the way home." The car pulled away as the man proceeded up the grass and on to the sidewalk. As the stop neared, it began to rain. A drop landed on his head. Then another on his shoulder. Then the drops fell into a consistent, more stable rhythm. That was when he looked up. He saw a girl about his age and a younger boy running to the bus stop he was headed for. They had bags on their backs, weighing them down, and they’re skin was severely scarred and beaten. The boy’s right leg was bruised and injured to a point of deformation, and he was holding onto the very-similar-looking girl’s arm. The duo looked around the city with fascination, as if they had never been outside. Then they revealed a piece of paper and examined it closely. It was then that the man’s eyes widened at the scene that unfolded before his eyes in slow motion. Even though he was an intern for the police, and he was always to stay calm in dangerous situations, he found himself running towards the duo in horror as a loud bang rang out and tires screeched wildly.

***

The boy holding onto the girl slowly slipped to the ground. The girl continued staring blankly ahead, straight into the car that drove by and shot her brother in the head. John and Kristen sat in the front, sneering directly at her. Their eyes were wide with insanity. John sat in the driver’s side, a gun in hand then quickly turned the car around and drove off in the opposite direction of the bus that swiveled towards the stop. It stopped mere feet in front of the duo and the man pushed and slid past screaming families and frightened witnesses. The girl sat with her back towards the man, hunched over the boy with her shoulders shaking. The man stepped closer and the girl turned looked back at him. The look on her face both shocked and frightened him. She was smiling.

A wide, toothy grin was spread on her face and her eyes were sparkling. It was the look a young child would have when their parents took them to Disneyland. But the air she put out was that of sorrow. The man looked at her with a straight face--not one of disgust or horror or fear like he felt a mixture of. His thoughts were clouded with things to ask, swirling and whirling throughout, but he he didn’t dare try to open his mouth to speak them all. Slowly, he asked the only one that he found important(and that he found he was able to say at the time). "Why--are you smiling?" Her facial expression appeared to become even happier, but the atmosphere became even more suffocating, to the point where the man almost wanted to cry on her behalf. "My mind...can’t recognize my pain." He didn’t quite understand, but he couldn’t bring himself to probe further. A silence hung over them as they stared at each other, unvoiced questions flowing throughout each one’s head. "Victor." The man finally said, introducing himself. The girl’s smile dimmed, and the atmosphere became less intense for only a second. There was a long pause, almost as if the girl had the try and recall her own name. "Evelyn."