I was almost ready for work. I was slipping into another rough cotton dress, and as the dress scraped against my nose, filling it with a soft perfume I heard a knock at the door. It was a frantic knock, unlike that lazy, nervous one of a customer. I didn't have any appointments, and Dr. Facilier didn't want me there for another twenty minutes. Manners said go; but my instinct held my feet firm.

'Wait.' It said. 'Just wait. Everything will be okay, trust me'

I can't wait. I'm too curious. I pull the dress down and force myself to silently walk down the hall to peer out of the stained eye- piece in my door. My skin prickles and my hair rises up on end as I recognize the knocker.

She's blonde, and chubby with dulled green eyes and a stained, stretched pink dress. As she slams her fist on the door, the sagging fat on her arm flings back and forth dangerously.

"Leora! Are you in there? I know you're here. Get the fuck out now!"

It's my sister. I can't believe she's found me here. My mouth goes dry and I slide down to my knees. It's Sarah. Sarah . . . that word carries so much meaning.

Calmly, silently, I walk to the back of my apartment, open the window, and slide out. I force the panic down and press the window back down. I take the back route to the emporium. 'Don't think about it. Just don't think. Don't. You'll cry. Tears are weakness. Tears are weakness.' I tell myself.

But I can't push it down. I remember the last conversation with my family, about four years ago. I told my two parents and my sister about wanting to have some freedom, asking to get an education, to learn a skill.

My mother laughed, her green eyes crinkling and her large white teeth glinting. She stopped to wipe away her stray mascara and fix her perfect wheat- blonde finger curls.

"Dear, you must be joking, really! You're a woman, you don't need to work! You just need to sit right, look pretty, and talk dumb. We'll have a man for you in no time and he'll be perfectly able to take care of you! Is it that you don't have a big enough allowance? Once you're married, you can barter with him for more." She winks at me, smudging still- wet mascara on her cheek, right under her eye.

"Why are you so intent on working?" My dad looks up at me quizzically from his book.

We argued for hours. I screamed at them, and they screamed back, refusing to budge. They ended up dragging me, with the help of five servants, kicking and screaming into my room. The door was bolted shut.

I left early in the morning, sneaking out of the window of our beautiful plantation home. The air was humid, but cold, a typical Florida morning. The sky was peach colored, and as I thumped unto the ground, I was almost alone, with just my necessary possessions. But I could feel the presence of them sleeping inside. And then I ran.

And I've been doing it ever since.

My barefeet slapped against the cold ground. Soon I could see the back door, a crusty green, warped piece of wood. I barreled through the door, knocking over some books in the process.

"Hey! What's going on?" The Doctor parts his way through a beaded curtain. "What are you huffin' and a puffin' for? And why'd you come in through the back door . . ?"

"I'm . . . being . . ." I take a moment to breathe. "Someone found me . . . I've been in hiding . . . for a while . . ."

He slides behind me and shuts the squeaky door.

"Oh." His face is scrunched in confusion. "You kill someone?" He raises a thin black eyebrow at me.

"I only wish."

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