From Prisoner To Princess

Chapter 2

　　The sounds of shuffling, banging and screaming coax me from my sleep, my body shivering from the cold air as I slowly become alert. Its morning time judging by the small amount of light that filters through my window and soon the Guards will be forcing me on my feet.

　　"Get up girly, its time for fun." Banging on the bars to my cell, the Guard takes one look at me as I push myself into a sitting up, trying my best to keep the thin blanket wrapped around my body to try and keep warm. My warm breath becomes fog in the air as I yawn, slipping my feet into the prison issued slippers and standing from my bed, if that's what you could call the thin mattress on a concrete slab.

　　My cell doors open and I throw the blanket onto my bed before slinking out to join the others. As I line up with the others that were caught as thieves, I think about how I ended up in Lady Pricilla's Prison for Troubled Women.

　　I race across the street heading to the alleyways that would take me to my hide out and to safety. I dodge the cars and bikes that drive by me, my bag slowing me down with the weight of the food inside. But I needed it if I wanted to survive the winter this year.

　　"Stop in the name of the Crown!" Ahead of me a man shouts while pointing in my direction. The Police Officer causes the pedestrians to look in my direction with fear and disgust as they part to the side and give him easier access to where I stand. Rolling my eyes, I turn right and head into the dark alley beside me.

　　I know these alleyways like the back of my hand, know them better than I know myself. Growing up in the Slums after loosing any memories I had before age six, I learned that the world is not for a lone child and that to survive I have to be fast and learn faster.

　　I keep to the shadows as I run through the back alleyways, always zigzagging in hopes of confusing the Police pursuing me. Past crumbling walls, under clothes hanging to dry that were washed earlier in the day by the ladies of the Slums, through backyards baren and ruined from years of neglect.

　　Finally, I stop and slink into a dark hollow door way and take a moment to catch my breath before checking to see if I have lost my pursuers. Thankfully, I find the coast is clear and decide to make the final stretch to my house, if that's what you could call the run down single room Shack with an attached bathroom I found at eight years old.

　　The way to my Shack is uneventful, my eyes and ears alert for any movement that indicates the Police have found me, luckily no one has. With a grin, I stop just before the current alleyway ends and look down both sides of the rundown street. Small bungalows make my little rundown Shack look out of place, but it is enough for me to know that no one would think to check the unassuming building that I have been putting work into making it a decent home. With the coast clear, I run the short distance towards the back door of the shack, slipping silently inside and shutting the door before locking it. I am safe now.

　　Smiling, I make my way to the small dining table and place my bag on top of it. The first thing I do is sort the food, placing the cans on the small shelf above the minifridge before removing the money and jewels I managed to secure from some rich woman in the shopping district. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I am one step closer to being able to leave the Capitol - Zalaris - and buying my own piece of land where I can live a good life. I just need to hang on just until spring next year.

　　Taking the money and jewels, I carry them to the bathroom where I lift the loose tile behind the toilet and take out the small tin cookie box. Placing it on the counter, I open the lid with my free hand and sigh at the money and jewelry that greets me. I add my haul to it before securing the lid and hid the cookie tin once more. Making sure the tile is secured in place, I head back to my food stash and take out a few piece of fruit I had stolen today, deciding a small fruit salad is a meal fit for celebrating a good haul. With the diced fruit in the bowl and the scraps in my small compost bin on the table, I make my way to the cot I call a bed and sit down, enjoying the sweet taste of the fruit. Suddenly the power goes out just as I finish the last bit of my meal, causing me to curse in the dark. I swear the weather here sucks.

　　Placing the bowl on the bed, I stand and make my way to the door. Storms are problematic in the Slums, always cutting out the power that we get here. I had thought I fixed this issue when I placed a solar panel on the roof of my hut, something I had stolen three years ago when I got sick and tired of the power cutting out for days, but clearly I need more to keep the power steady here.

　　With a sigh, I exit my home and lock the door before I go to see what I can do to restore power. The fall rain pelts down on my body, causing me to shiver as I make my way to the right side of my shack where the power box is. Reaching it withing a minute, unease settles inside me when I notice the wire to the solar panel has been cut, its stored power that would usually work unable to connect to my power box.

　　Realizing that I am in trouble, I turn and try to run back inside to the safety of my shack but I am too late. Strong arms wrap around my neck forcing me back against a sturdy body, one I know I have no chance of fighting against.