|Rain's Prose Portfolio|
|Writing done by Rainbowfartz.|
Finding a way out of Sorrel Sigmond’s home unseen for their dirty work was their first task. The night owls wandering aimlessly through the dirty streets of poor Boat Town had keen night senses, and more than once Sorrel and her older brother Grant had close brushes with them.
Fortunately, they were not spotted and proceeded slowly and carefully to Boat Town’s run-down police station. The town had gotten its name from the dirty ocean it was surrounded by, causing polluted water to fall from the clouds, covering Sorrel in gunk and making them easy to spot.
Sorrel and Grant hated Boat Town a lot. It had an upside though; the files the police held in their possession were key to the many criminals cruising through the polluted town. The two had befriended the criminals, the fugitives walking poor and empty on the street, lying miserably in jail cells.
Sorrel and Grant found jobs in the lonely town, stealing files for money, finally finding a home but unable to break the deal between the circle of criminals. Here they are today, committing crimes every night. Running from police. Finding files.
Sorrel’s dark eyes sweep the police station closely. “Grant, there’s no need to hide. There’s nobody here.” She pulls her brother out from behind the door. He needed to be babied a lot. “We need to work quickly; we took too much time. Dawn is soon.” Grant looks to the sky. Sure enough the sky was an orange-purple colour already.
Sorrel set to work immediately. As soon as she touched the filing cabinet it swung open. “City records, more city records, city map…” Sorrel quickly whispers the words on the labeled files. Her keen eyes saw most things that other people couldn’t. “Sorrel, Sorrel, Sorrel! Come over here! It’s urgent! Sorrel!”
Sorrel scowled. “Grant! Be quiet! We’ll get caught with you yelling like tha-!” She heard it when her rant was caught short. “I told you sis! I told you they’d find us someday! You never listened!” Grant lowered his head so his chestnut hair covered his eyes.
“I told you the police would find us someday.”
Sorrel panicked on the inside. “P-police? Where a-are they?” She’d never felt her stomach turn like this. She had never been so scared. The police can’t know about them finding files. It was her only fear…
Grant grabbed her by the collar of her black shirt and pushed her into the police locker. Grant dove in with her. “I can’t believe we were so careless!” Sorrel reflected on their hasty burglary. The cabinet slammed open and shut, and she was wearing hard, loud boots. Of course they would find them like this!
“Don’t worry, Grant. Go to your happy place, Grant.” Grant rocks back and forth in the locker. Sorrel had calmed down slightly and covered Grant’s mouth with her hand.
“Get out here you nasty pests! Criminals! You all think you’re so good, huh?” The nasally voice pierced the air. He paced the room impatiently. “Show yourself!” The policeman sounded annoyed.
They could hear loud steps outside of the locker. What an idiot! Sorrel thought happily. The policeman didn’t even look through the locker when he sighed and left.
Sorrel’s heart slowed to a regular beat. She slowly opened the locker, with a clear knowledge of the screech the rust on the hinges would obviously cause. But Grant had not calmed down enough. He thrust his hands out of his lap, hitting her in the back.
Sorrel fell out of the locker and on to the hard floor, landing on her stomach, causing her to groan loudly. She could hear the police’s grunt of surprise already.
They were now exposed. The policeman had barely crossed through the hallway. Sorrel’s vision blurred. Pain shot through her body. She was now exposed.
For Sorrel Sigmond is a thief, a fugitive, a criminal. All the time she was finding files.
They were never supposed to know.
Grant fell out of the locker, landing on his back next to Sorrel.
“Thieves, huh?” The police man smirked, bringing his hand to his chin. “We have noticed the recent loss of our precious city records; we are neither stupid nor ignorant. It appears you are.” The burn the policeman was implying didn’t register in either of their minds. For in a second, Sorrel had bolted out into the hallway with Grant at her heels.
Sorrel’s legs never stopped working. Around the post, around the dock, Sorrel was a machine. With Grant close behind her, Sorrel was running, running, running…and so were the police and guard dogs.
She had thought they were safe up until she bent over for a rest. She then realized that the guard dogs were chewing on Grant’s shoe as he ran. His shoe was reduced to shreds, and he was running as hard as he could barefoot.
Then the guard dog attacked her.
Only to add to the pain and to keep her running, Sorrel was running even harder now. She was running so hard she thought she would collapse right there. The guard dogs started to nip on her shoes. Sorrel was hunched over now.
The sun was rising; all of Boat Town would be up to greet her soon. In jail, she thought. They want to throw me in jail now!
Boat Town was also famous for a lack of lawn mowing. The tall grass swayed right where Sorrel fell down, spent. She then made an excellent discovery. They can’t see me! Sorrel lay there. Grant tumbled in to the grass near there, panting. The police lost them.
They never did find them.
Grant’s expression as he read the Wanted sign could only be described as cluelessness. In his eyes he couldn’t have done anything wrong. The darned criminals turned them into one of them…
“Well, Grant...” Sorrel could be more described as being sheepish. She knew from the beginning they would be caught, the fugitives they were. The files they found were priceless to the police force, and the town itself. “Now we can leave this horrible town and never turn back.” His sister’s words lifted Grant somehow.
Their escape plan was more careful than any of their night plans before. How a small stolen boat would take them to somewhere better, where they had normal lives. Unlike a fugitive. They would be citizens.
The red boat in the old store was stolen before the eyes of every single shopper. Those who had enough to pay. But they didn’t care anymore. They were going to somewhere where nobody would know who they are.
The sandy beach caused trouble to the duo as they lugged the rusty red boat to water. When the boat finally hit the water, it was late into the evening. Orange, purple and the black of the night merged to one as Grant rowed away. Sorrel looked to the city, the lights of the buildings fading.
Her eyes began to sink, sleep overcoming her. The water lapped against the boat, Boat Town merely a faded dot in the distance. Sorrel sank like her consciousness, falling into sleep. She smiled in a subtle manner.
They were done being fugitives, criminals, outcasts. They were finished their career with the others. They were done, finished. They would never return to their act. The job of finding files.