"I don't know if I can do this" she said.
She was standing on the tip of the window, crouched to jump down. She could feel the wind pushing up through the trees and see the ground, four windows below her. For a second her balance wavered and her sense of control catapulted through the window. She grasped the sides of the window and steadied herself.
"I have to do this."
She heard the footsteps behind her. Simon, and Mr. Nice, just down the hall, screaming her name, their ciggarette stained vioces producing a foul dead stench that saturated the silence.
She didn't have to jump to the ground, only the top of the balcony below, where she could then climb a branch that was sitting on top of the roof. But if she didn't jump correctly, she would land on the ground, and she might break something, or the impact might just kill her.
For her own safety and sanity she had to go. And she had to do it in such a way that her life would not be over. But in that moment she didn't understand the real quality in life, the real element of existence, and this made her jump down carefully instead of demanding the environment around her and freefalling towards her purpose. Instead of falling like Alice she jumped down into her path like the road not taken. And for this she made the puzzles click in place. She set the gears in motion. She could hear it as she fell.
She could also hear her liberation in her ability to land on the balcony roof. And she scrambled onto the tree and shhimmied down quickly enough so that the men hunting her couldn't find her, didn't know what room to look into.
She stood at the base of the tree for a moment and considered her options. Her breath came quickly and her chest rose and fell. The fear had changed directions. She could hear the wheels breaking the force of their path, sending the car forward and around obstacles toward time.
She could feel that she controlled her direction. She could feel that her lack of hope and how false it could be sometimes was correct.