The Great Escape
Jeremy ran.
His small feet slapped against the wooden floor as he rushed through the hallway. The house felt too quiet, yet every sound seemed too loud. His breathing echoed in his ears.
Behind him, footsteps followed.
Slow. Heavy. Patient.
Jeremy turned the corner and slipped into a small storage room. He pulled the door almost shut and crouched behind a stack of boxes. His chest rose and fell quickly.
He covered his mouth with both hands.
Don’t breathe loudly.
Don’t make a sound.
The footsteps grew closer.
Step.
Step.
Step.
They stopped just outside the room.
Jeremy’s heart pounded so loudly he was sure it could be heard through the walls. Sweat gathered on his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping whoever was searching would not find him.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then the footsteps moved again.
Step.
Step.
Step.
They slowly faded down the hallway.
Jeremy waited.
He counted in his head.
One… two… three… four…
Still nothing.
He slowly removed his hands from his mouth and carefully peeked out from behind the boxes. The hallway outside looked empty.
He pushed the door open a little more and stepped out.
The house was quiet again.
Jeremy tiptoed forward.
Each step felt dangerous. The wooden floor creaked under his feet, and he froze every time it made a noise.
He moved toward the staircase.
If he could reach the door downstairs, maybe he could escape.
Jeremy carefully placed his foot on the first step.
Creak.
He froze.
The sound seemed to echo through the entire house.
Then he heard it.
Footsteps.
They were coming back.
Jeremy’s eyes widened. He rushed down the stairs as quietly as he could, but fear made his steps clumsy.
At the bottom of the stairs, he looked around quickly.
He needed help.
A phone.
There had to be a phone somewhere.
Jeremy hurried into the living room, searching the table, the sofa, the shelves.
Nothing.
His breathing became faster.
“Where is it…?” he whispered to himself.
He turned toward the kitchen.
Then a voice spoke from behind him.
“Looking for this?”
Jeremy froze.
Slowly, very slowly, he turned around.
Behind him stood a tall dark figure in the hallway. The light from the window behind it made the person look like nothing more than a shadow.
In the figure’s hand was a phone.
Jeremy’s heart jumped.
The shadow took a step forward.
Jeremy suddenly ran.
He dashed toward the front door as fast as he could. The footsteps behind him followed immediately.
Faster.
Closer.
Jeremy reached out for the door handle.
Just as he grabbed it, the door suddenly opened.
A man stepped inside.
Jeremy didn’t even think.
He jumped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the man’s waist.
“Dad!”
The man looked surprised.
“Whoa, hey—Jeremy?”
From the kitchen, another voice shouted.
“Jeremy! Let go of your father and come here!”
Jeremy froze.
The voice continued, louder this time.
“We need to talk about those cookies.”
Jeremy slowly turned his head.
His mother stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed.
There was flour on the counter behind her and an empty cookie jar beside it.
She looked very, very unhappy.
Jeremy glanced down at his shirt.
Small brown crumbs were stuck to the front of it.
His father looked between them.
“What happened while I was gone?” he asked calmly.
Jeremy didn’t answer.
His mother sighed.
“He ate half the cookie jar,” she said.
Jeremy slowly stepped away from his father.
The terrifying chase.
The hiding.
The running.
All of it was because of one thing.
Cookies.
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“...They were really good cookies,” he muttered.
His mother pointed toward the kitchen.
“Jeremy.”
Jeremy sighed and slowly walked toward her.
The great escape had failed.
