Bitter. The air was thick like morning fog. The stench was unbearable. There was a hint of mold and cigars, just like every other room in the building. Except here, the smell was even stronger. Running was the only option I had. My aching feet carried me forward, but my mind yearned to go the other way.  The hallway was dim, almost pitch black, and the stone walls were covered in dark smears and smudges. I breathed in once more, the dampness making my throat dry. But if I coughed, they would hear me.
        

A crunching sound formed with every step. I realized that shattered glass lay everywhere. I tried to avoid stepping on it, but it carpeted the entire floor. Dread. Now it began to wrap around me, and coil through my soul. The pressure, the stress, and the panic engulfed me.
        

I missed my family. They had always been there with me.. I would hold Alice in my lap, never letting go of her soft small fingers. Her little puffy cheeks would bring out the joy in me. Her smile was bigger than anyone’s. I never let go of her, but she was the one who did. They took her away, tears spilling down her pale cheeks as she kicked, struggled, and cried. The sounds she let out stabbed my heart with icy daggers. She looked at me from the window of the plane. My wife held her in her lap. She was strong, but her sorrow was undeniable. I could imagine her sobbing behind the walls of the aircraft. Her yells were carried away by the wind. But the wind brought them back to me at night, when I would sit alone in the cell.
        

My breathing paused. My ears picked up a sound I prayed that I wouldn't hear. But as it is grew louder, I was more aware of its existence. The barks of dogs echoed down the hall. My stomach tightened, but my boldness grew. My feet raced across the glass as Alice's face burned into my head. Her sad, hazel eyes were swollen with tears. They were larger than her smile. My vision became blurred.
        

A light up ahead became brighter. The walls and the leaking pipes running on the ceiling were becoming distant. The crunching sound suddenly ceased, like a wave receding back from the shore. I strained, trying to remember the ocean. I tried picturing the peaceful blue sea, or a stormy one, with its monotonous gray color. No. The memory was gone, as though someone stole it.
        

I was at the end of the hallway. I stopped to listen for any sound of the approaching hounds. Silence. They were dead, just like everyone else. I turned my attention back onto the end of the hallway. The light was coming from a room, one  I've been in before. It brought back revolting memories. A raspy voice coming from inside made me shiver.
        

"Mr. Lendon. I see you there. You know perfectly well that you cannot hide from me."
       

  His voice had a heavy British accent. He put too much emphasis on all of his words. It was as though he wanted to frighten me and mock me, all at the same time.

         I remained silent, only slowly and steadily breathing. I could feel him growing impatient, irritated even.
         "Mr. Lendon?"
         I still had my mouth shut.
         "Mr. Lendon? I would like to speak with you."
        

I started to shake; not from the cold breeze blowing through my hair, but from the fury boiling inside. The steam rose into my head.
        

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut the hell up! You sick beast! Because of you, I had to see Alice leave and weep. Do you even have a heart?" I hadn't realized it, but I started to pant. I was kneeling down outside his office. The man inside lit a Cuban cigar, and puffed out a cloud. He reached for his radio  and whispered, "Patient 73 has escaped and is at my doorwer. Assistance required." He then returned his attention to me.
        

"It was for your own good. Mr. Lendon, you already know that." He paused to take another puff of his cigar. My hands trembled, as I stroked my fingers against the oak door. I stood up, and jumped onto my sore feet. Barging through the door, I saw The Keeper. He was an obese man and was sprawled in the chair. As I flew into the room, his smile broadened. He reached for his glasses, and wiped the fog off.

I pulled up a chair, not minding  the ear- piercing, scraping sound  of metal against wood. I placed it on the other side of The Keeper, who put out his cigar in a rusty ashtray. I stayed seated, and stared into the eyes of the man. He seemed to ignore me as he scribbled on a piece of paper. Hours passed, but I kept staring at him and not fidgeting a muscle.

I threw the first punch, making contact with his nose. Drops of blood trickled out, He collapsed to the floor with a large thud. I jumped off the chair, and landed on top of the limp body. I let out all my rage, one hit after another. With my last blow into his chest, I felt a searing pain in my back. Quickly, the pain flowed into drowsiness. Sleep washed through my thoughts and cleared them out. The shot left me motionless. I caught a glimpse of the nurse. She carefully inspected the unconscious man next to me. She stepped over the drops of blood that now seeped into the floor. After a while, her hazel eyes locked with mine. Before I completely slipped away, I heard her voice, a sweet and a high pitched one that sounded like Alice’s.
           

“It’s about time we give him the strong meds.” The nurse whispered into the radio clipped onto her hospital uniform.