Georgie could see the last few rays of light fading from the sky and all he could do was watch. He watched the sky like it was something he’d never seen before; a beauty hidden above his world of darkness. He knew it was highly likely this would be the last day he’d see to the end and he wanted to hold onto a least one pleasant memory, a pleasant memory that he couldn’t lose or have to invent.

Slowly, he’s focus shifted forward, away from the outside, to the frame of his 4 X 4 window. Would he notice the shard of glass missing? Would he notice before Georgie had a chance to do something, anything? Georgie spend the next hour in a daydream: fantasising his dream mission of a heroic escape; the moment he’d see his family again; his moment in court where justice would be served.

Abruptly, Georgie was pulled back into the present with a familiar sound: keys and chains. He looked back at the window one last time, inwardly begging something, someone, to give him the strength he knew he didn’t have.

‘Runt!’ The gruff voice came from the shadow blocking the doorway and Georgie knew, without having to turn around, that the beast would have a sickening grin on his face. Reluctantly, Georgie turned to face him. Although skinny in size and young-ish in age, the beast has the strength of ten crazy men when he wanted it; Georgie’s cuts, bruises and breaks could stand witness to that.

‘Don’t underestimate him’, Georgie thought to himself. The smell of stale beer clogging up the air shouldn’t have given Georgie a sense of hope; if anything, he knew it made him more unpredictable.

‘Well Runt, what’re you waiting for, a fucking invitation?’ The beast lingered in the doorway, taking one small step into the tiny basement, grinning, enjoying the winnings of a hunt rather than a meal just handed to him; it was one of the reasons he kept the kid this long: he still continues to fight.

Georgie stumbled back, gripping onto the shards of glass too tightly with his, now bloodied, hand behind his back. He knew the game and didn’t want to play anymore… he allowed the beast to come towards him. The beast didn’t like it; it wasn’t a win if Georgie didn’t lose. He stepped forward and gripped Georgie around the neck, intent on making him squeal another way when something behind the kid caught his eye: the window. He’s eyes flashed back at Georgie, full of fire and excitement but Georgie didn’t wait, he plunged the knife into his chest, mastering as much strength as he could, burying the glass deeper into his own hand as it sank deeper into the beast.

Georgie ran, he ran as quick as he could towards the door, towards the air of the night sky and city, still buzzing with life. He could feel his legs giving way on the stairs but he had strength; he could do this. He got to the door and turned the handle, the handle to an unlocked door! An easy way out! The smell of air was intoxicating, exhilarating. Georgie opened his mouth wide to scream at the top of his lungs so that someone could finally take him away. As he breathed in … he was overcome with darkness. Nothing but pain and confusion, with time drifting by.

Eventually, he’s swollen eyes could just about open and he could feel his wrists shackled to the wall. He eyes we’re all he could move, everything else felt broken, shattered; even breathing induced pain. He’s eyes focused on the room and he could just about make it out: the shadow, grinning teeth, staring eyes. Lingering onto consciousness, Georgie heard the beast almost singing to himself, ‘I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me,’ just before Georgie passed out from the pain.