With a sudden puff of breath, he jerked awake. He felt the pitch black atmosphere of the room metamorphose. Slowly, it brightened a little, then it stopped, partly lit and partly dim.
Oche shot a look at his cuffed hands again and he shook his head. He was finally a victim of the rampant kidnapping trend in his country. That was hard for him to process. If only he could get his hands free, he would then probably be able to outrun the drunk men keeping watch over him. He had tried the first time and made it to the unlocked gates of the compound but one of the drunk men had spied him. Thanks to the creaking sound the gates made just as soon as he opened them. He had been chased after by the two drunk men for half a minute before he was caught and dragged back into his cell. The men had left again to concentrate on their life purpose - getting drunk.
He knew they would not hurt him or anything. In fact, he would not be in the cell long before his father paid his ransom but he could not wait that long. He had to be home that very night. It was a night he had always planned for. It was 'Operation No leftover' night, a once-in-a-year buffet night in Oche's family when every child in the household gets to serve themselves to surfeit, provided they leave no leftovers. Oche had been waiting all year for this; he had planned it to be his amend for last year's when he suffered toothache and it was almost going to be, except that he was kidnapped on his way from school earlier that day.
'I've got to try again.' he muttered to himself. 'But first, I have to get rid of these goddamn cuffs.' Then he remembered the little trick he had learnt from his favourite TV series, Arrow, where the main character, Oliver Queen, dislocated his thumb to get free from handcuffs. He would do that. Better to hurt a thumb than forfeit the sumptuous food of 'Operation No Leftover' night, and of course, his father would not have to pay any ransom except a tiny amount for his thumb treatment. 'Aaargh!' he winced sharply, just as his thumb dislocated. It was for real, his left hand slipped free from the cuffs! He held the other empty end of the cuffs in his right hand and stealthily, he tiptoed out of the cell, past the room, where the two men were busy 'achieving their life purpose', and towards the gates. He yanked them open with all the might he could muster before dashing into the dark night.
This is an entry for the Inkwell weekly prompt challenge. The given prompt word for this week is "Run".
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