Escape



The brisk, cold winter air hit my face as I walked to the barracks of my new munchkin master. He previously instructed me the day before to meet him at six o’clock sharp; a meeting I promised to appear to. Christopher Stewart; a name I would become increasingly familiar with and never forget. My munchkin services were purchased by this man for the modest price of five elephants. Though he was only able to provide two and a half elephants, I was lenient and accepted his invitation of employment. These are rough times for munchkins. There are few of our kind and a shortage of trustworthy owners. My munchkin past has been a dark one; one filled with abuse, neglect, and heartbreak. A past that I would much rather forget, but is always a daunting reminder in the back of my mind. Every time I would fail a previous owner, I would find it harder and harder to keep going. I would find it harder and harder to trust. I would find it harder and harder to believe. Christopher though, dear Christopher, something about our brief conversations made him seem different somehow. I had a sense of hope.
The air seemed to get colder and colder the closer I approached my destination. This feeling, this ominous feeling, one that I only experience on rare occasions, created a slight sense of panic in the pit of my stomach. My eyes shifted from side to side. I don’t know if it was my state of panic, but I could have sworn on my dead goldfish’s grave that I saw a shadow in the corner of peripheral vision. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly turned my head to the right. Nothing was there. It was desolate and quiet; too quiet. My feet seemed frozen to the pavement, but I knew I had to keep moving. I simply could not keep Chris waiting, for disappointment was not an option. I took a few short steps and began to pick up my pace.
A chill came across the back of my neck and made my hair stand at their peak in anticipation. But for what though? Anticipation for what? Suddenly I stop. I hear a noise in the background. An unfamiliar noise. A rumbling of some sorts. I slowly turn to my left side only to see an army of angry creatures coming towards my in full force. I witness as the feet of hundreds of ostriches pound on the cold pavement. My brain sends a rushed signal to my feet telling me to run. I sprint, fearing for my life. I dodge trees and ordinary public obstacles. Panting, heart racing, trying to survive. Why me? Why are they chasing me? Me, of all victims? The hectic creatures are quickly closing in. What am I to do? Millions of thoughts race through my mind, mainly on survival.
They snap at me with their feroucious beaks, intimidating me even more so. My face hits the concrete. I must have fallen. I can’t even tell anymore. They are approaching at an alarming rate, I have to think fast. I nervously rummage through my book bag.
“Wand. Wand. Where are you?!” I repeat to myself with no avail. My hands are in pain from their collision with the road. I keep searching; the fear for my own life was the only thing to keep me going.
With a stroke of luck, I retrieve my want from my bag and lift myself to my feet trying to keep steady. I hold my mystical munchkin wand in the air and yell at the top of my lungs,
“FREEZE!”
The magic of the wand reacted quickly to my dire circumstances and released its power over the entire flock of birds. They stopped. Frozen.
The mucles in my body relax as I am standing in shock over what had just occurred to me. Never had I preformed a spell of such a high level of skill. My arms slowly come back down to my sides and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Good work.” I breathe out as I place the mystical object back into my bag. The wand vibrates and turns a soft yellow as a sign of content and satisfaction, as if it is alive and can feel just as you and I.
I attempt to regain composure as I soon remember my duties. I am still to report to Christopher’s barracks. As I grab my hastily thrown down backpack, I continue my journey as if nothing had ever happened. Time will only stand still for about two hours, after then the spell will wear off. Two hours is plenty of time.