It’s summer. I can tell because I can no longer feel the winter’s icy bite on my skin. I get up off the dusty floor and look out the window in hopes that someone has come to get me. To tell me that everything is okay, to tell me that I can have my life back, to tell me that no one wants to kill me. Only no one has come to get me, I have to survive another day in this place.

My back is stiff, and my head aches from a restless sleep. I brush my brown tangled hair away from my hazel eyes. My gaze darts around the cabin, watching for anything out of place, even the slightest difference could mean danger. I open the door cautiously, moving my head out to check the edge of the forest. I remember my father standing by my side when I was younger, telling me to watch for movement, to watch for places where the sun shines unnaturally, but most importantly to watch for eyes.

When I am sure I am safe I walk outside into the warm morning air. I smile when the sun hits my skin, as I walk through the dew covered grass, towards the water pump. It creaks as I pull the lever and cool clear water flows out and into my water bucket.

As soon as I am inside I hear a car rumble towards the cabin. Fear spikes in my brain as I set down the bucket and I open up the storage cabinet in the wall.

When I had arrived here, I painted the cabinet door to match the wall, making it the perfect hiding place. I stuff myself into the cabinet I can see the floor through a small crack that I had make so I could breath. I’ve always loathed small spaces, only the risk is too great to be claustrophobic.

I hear the door open and my breath starts to quicken. I hear the thud of cowboy boots against the dusty wood floors. I immediately know who it is, Winton Smith, the worst criminal of them all, he has never has enough evidence to convict him, but he is on every cop’s radar. I am the only living person who has seen proof of his criminal activity, and I am set to testify in court when my father comes to get me. I know that Winton is not here to bring me to court. He doesn't want me to step foot in a courthouse.

I remember when I was walking home from a movie, Saturday night. I remember the sun had gone down and the street lights were my only guide. I texted my mom to let her know that I was coming home. That is when it happened, I remembers seeing the deal going down, getting hit on the head and left there in the middle of the street. I am lucky to still be breathing. The biggest thing I remember is the cowboy boots walking away as I was fading in and out of consciousness. I remember the feeling of helplessness as he left me there. I feel that same feeling now as I sit in the dark cabinet.

I hold my breath and silently reach for the phone. I pray I don’t make any noise in the little cabinet. My fingers hover over the numbers and I hope that he doesn't check the walls too thoroughly. I hear the backdoor open and Winton walks out into the backyard. I quickly dial 911 and pray that he can’t hear me, the walls are very thin and any noise could make him come back into the house. A woman’s voice pierces the uneasy silence saying “911, whats your emergency.

I rush to explain my situation, the woman tells me that the police are on their way. I hope they get here in time, I can’t hide forever, my legs are already getting numb. I hang up despite the woman’s plea to stay on the line, I can’t risk the noise. I close my eyes and remember the faces of those who I am closest to, my friends and my families faces crowd my mind in this small cabinet. I hope the police get here soon.

Winton bursts back into the house and terror floods my brain. I hear the screeching sound of sirens and the rumble of tires against the gravel path to the house. I hear a cop, shouting with a megaphone saying “Come out with your hands up!”. My heartbeat quickens, I hope that Winton will comply with their demands. I hear the shatter of glass and gunshots ring in my ears. After the longest five minutes of my life, Silence fills the cabin, I itch to get out of the cabinet, but I am also terrified about what I might find. Who won the fight I ask myself, and worry consumes my thoughts.

I hear the creak of the cabin door, my heart is filled with dread, only to be replaced with joy when I hear the police radio ring clear in the morning air. I hear my father’s voice call out to me “Emelina, where are you? Winton is gone.” I bolt out of the cabinet and into my father’s arms. I couldn’t have been more happy. It had been over a year since I have seen anyone, a year of living in fear at every single sound.

Me and my father walk out into the sun shine and I can hear the happy celebration of the police officers. Standing there, I am lost in my thoughts, lost in the joy of this moment. We watch the police cars drive away from the cabin. I can see the sun shine on the lake, I can hear the birds singing in the trees.

Anyone else would have been at peace with this moment, only I can’t get the uneasiness out of my head, There is still a trial. There is still a sentence to served. There is still life to live, and that is what I will do.

Live.