A Peacekeeper's Story: The White Boots are Tramping

by Pen1

Long before the Mockingjay was born, before the Hunger Games were created, in the land once known as North America, a spark is lit. A youth, rejected and abandoned by his family and forced to run away from society and all his knows, decides to make a stand and form what we know now as the feared Peacekeepers. This is a story of fears, hope, rejection, despair and love.

9. Chapter 8: Prep for Running Away

Chapter 8

The best time when cockroaches, rats and other pests come out to play, feast and forage is always in the dark of it is when I sneak out of my prison to collect materials and other things I would need to run away.

Before mum went to bed, she would always lock the basement door so that I wouldn't go out and murder her in her sleep or get the cops. But I guess she didn't care enough to find out whether I was prone to violence or had the aptitude to snitch on her. Come on, cops aren't that super effective, now to speak of. I've heard of cops caving in so easily to bribes that they even sell weed in prisons, earning more than their low pay as law enforcement officers. And cops have more serious matters to deal with, like gangs torching cars for no reason and drug dealers. I had searched about the basement and found lots of stuff which were collecting dust, waiting for me to use. Objects that are seemingly as useless as unicorns, but once you start thinking out of the box, you can get more than they are worth.

A mirror that can be used for signalling or making fires in the wild. I read about that a lot. There is no MacGyver mentality in me, but just simple common sense that every human should have to solve a problem. After poking about in some moth-eaten boxes, I find some hooks, a few rubber bands, a broken cabinet and a mini toolbox. Most toolboxes are bulky, heavy and troublesome to carry, but this one was specially small and light. Inside, I find some nails, screws, a small hammer, a mini saw almost the size of a toy one, a mini screwdriver and a pair of trusty pliers. I find some rope in another box. I briefly remember trying to make a kite with it in my younger happier days but it was a dismal failure. A bunch of rusty paper clips.

My mind goes back to those old Cold War escape films and I try to copy the movies by using the pliers to form a rake with one paper clip and a pressure-exerting tool with another. I gingerly stick the rake into the door knob and I am elated to hear something click. But it's all trial and error from there and the rest is history. But I make the lock open successfully without the use of a misbegotten key and I feel proud of myself. I creep pass the stairs to hear mum snoring in her room. Brandon seems to be asleep too as his bedroom light is open-he always sleeps with the lights on. I don't know why. I get a knife from the kitchen, some tinned food like Spam and beans (with a can opener too), which can last real long and a big loaf of bread. Some matches and garbage bags (you may never know!). My sleeping bag from those camping trips of old when the family was happier. A little money from my savings ($50) and a bag big enough to carry them all. A compass with some maps. A bottle for water, and I fill it beforehand. Some iodine tablets to cleanse water if I were to bug out in the wild. A mini first aid kit with fever pills, bandages and that kind of thing. A notebook and pen to jot my travels in (or to pen my last words before I die of hunger or hopelessness in some faraway land).

I slip back into my prison and lock back the door with a little more difficulty just as daybreak is approaching. Now all I have to do is to be patient and wait for the right time to bust out and run away. If I were to run away simply just like that, I may have missed out any issues that need careful consideration. But for know, I'm prepared and we're good.