I have to get out of here, tell the police, but would they believe me? They have no reason to - to them, I was just a law-breaker, a criminal.

  A 'lowlife'.

  What do I have to lose? Nothing. The only reason I'm resisting the option is the fact that I could go back to prison, live that life all over again. But there's another problem - Ivy. She's still in the house, that liar is still in this house. I'm crashing at her house. I looked at my options, one thought emerged from the back of my mind as I looked down from the window - death. It was just a window away, its surrounding me. My devil was whispering to me that if I died, it wouldn't matter - I had no friends, no family who would welcome me home. No one. I could end my misery right there, I could end my guilt -

  All with just one slip.

  But I resisted. I had a reason to live - Justice. Justice to Ivy, to me. All I wanted was for Ivy to be put into her place, then I could be at peace with myself, with my conscience. I stepped away from the window, backing away from possible thoughts. 

  I got dressed in some presentable clothes, mostly what she gave me in a stack, expensive, fragrant. I need a way out of here. Think Kiara, think.

  The door ,only a few feet away, was staring at me mockingly - it was begging me to open it.

  To escape.

  I'll do it.  I said to myself, leaving at this point is better than staying here. Keys. I need the keys to open the door. I stole furtive glances of the living room. There they were, sitting on the coffee table. I looked left and right -  the coast was clear.

  I tiptoed out of my room and bent down to get the keys. The jingle of the keys were a bit noisy, but not loud enough for Ivy to hear. I heard the click of the door as I inserted the key into the lock, turned it. It opened. I felt like the air outside was the best air my lungs have ever felt. I shut the door taking the keys with me, easy access to her house.I took the lift down to the ground floor.

  I stared at the grey pavement, surrounding the estate. I could so vividly imagine my dead, lifeless body on the ground. My face planted into the floor, me in a pool of my own red crimson blood. A horrendous sight, yet such an easy answer to my problem. 

  I bisk walked around the area, taking in the fresh air as I tried to conjure up a plan. Tell the police, a part of me thought. No, they will arrest you again, another part of me argued.

  I let out a soft sigh as I contradicted myself. This was not going to be easy. No, not one bit. The escaping part was easy, this was going to be difficult. A question then burned in my head for and answer - where was Ivy when I escaped? My heart palpitated as I thought of all the possibilities. She could have been in the corner watching my every move. I started to sweat, not because I have been walking for so long, but because she might want to kill me at some point.

  I do NOT want to die at her hands, I want to die knowing that I have done the world some justice, that I have made some peace with myself. I ache for it.