All right, no more false starts. This time, it's real. I'm getting out of here. Tara gave herself a pep talk as she straightened, stretching out the muscles of her back, shoulders, and legs. Good bye, secret floorboard. Good bye, window seat. Good bye, Dad and Donnie.

For the second time tonight, the Wiccan opened the closet door and put her jacket on, shouldered her backpack, and wheeled the hand-truck out. She was pleased to note that it barely made a sound, only the wheels rolling over an uneven floor. And that noise wasn't so bad, especially if she went nice and slow. A few cleansing breaths later, it was time. She had lay in the dark since shortly after Beth left, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the house and her ears to attune themselves to the house's sounds. Navigating the residence in pitch darkness would not be a problem now, and she was alert enough to notice any differences as she passed through the house. She only hoped that her father had not been doing the same.

She pulled her sneakers on over navy, red, and white Cat-in-the-Hat socks, tucking the laces inside the shoes so she wouldn't have to bother with tying them, but they wouldn't be able to trip her up. Finally, she turned the doorknob. Silently pulling the door open, she had a momentary vision of her father standing just outside, waiting angrily. No, it's not real. He doesn't know, you'll make it out. And no one can stop you.

Holding her breath, she looked down the hallway. Completely empty, she smiled. She pulled the hand truck behind her, quiet as a cloud passing between the earth and the moon. Past her father's door, now past Donnie's. Each step brought her closer, her mouth partially open and her breathing deep and low. She peeked her head around the corner into the living room, and Beth's breathing came slow and even from the sofa-bed. All signs indicated that she was asleep.

Slowly, cautiously, Tara eased the cart's wheels over the transition from hardwood floor to carpet through the living room. She paused over the sofa, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out a second note. It was folded and taped closed with "Beth" written on the outside. She placed the note carefully next to Beth, then continued on her way, rolling the truck gently back onto hardwood as she entered the kitchen. She continued to slink towards the exit, when she heard a door open down the hall. She abruptly ducked behind the kitchen table on the far side of the room, bumping her knee on a chair leg and biting her lip to keep from yelping, while still pulling the hand-truck soundlessly along after her. Donnie stumbled sleepily across the hall to the bathroom, out of Tara's line of sight.

After a couple minutes, the door opened and she expected to hear his bedroom door closing again, but instead his footfalls were coming this way! She crawled backwards to keep the table between herself and her brother, looking behind her to make sure the hand-truck wouldn't be visible from where Donnie was, now no more than six feet away. The light flickered on dimly over the counter to Tara's left, and she heard her brother rummaging through a cupboard to get a glass. Water ran briefly until the glass was full, and she caught the sounds of him drinking. The glass was again topped off, and the counter light blinked out. Donnie's footsteps retreated, and when she heard his bedroom door shut, she let out her breath, unaware that she'd even been holding it.

She waited until all was quiet again, and after what felt like an eternity, straightened to stand behind the table. The cart trailed along obediently as Tara began creeping towards the door again. She almost expected something else to happen, to stop her, but she rounded the corner and stood facing the door. A broad grin stole its way across her face, and she disengaged the lock, then the deadbolt. Each click seemed to Tara as loud as a train whistle, but Beth probably wouldn't have noticed if she were up. Quietly, she turned the doorknob, feeling a cool rush of nocturnal November air across her right hand. She pulled the door all the way open, turning the doorknob back to the locked position out of habit as she stepped through, pushing the screen door open with her knee and easing the wheels of the cart over the threshold and out onto the sidewalk.

Tara closed the inner door behind her, cringing at the comparatively earsplitting sound of the door shutting with the lock engaged. The screen door eased shut quietly, and then the witch stood on the sidewalk for a few moments, allowing her heart rate and respiration to return to normal, almost unable to believe that she had gotten out of the house. She pressed the Indiglo button on the side of her pocketwatch, the bluish glow highlighting Mickey's arms pointing out 12:50. Wow, I better go catch that bus! It leaves in twenty minutes! Tara mentally chastised herself, then took off at a jog for the bus station, the freshly oiled wheels of the hand-truck rolling along at the same pace.

At 12:55, an exhilarated girl with dancing blue eyes arrived at the bus station, wheeling behind her the most astounding-looking cart. She went inside the station with a giddy grin on her face to check about her bus, stammering a bit as she spoke. The few people in the station seemed unable to stop themselves from studying the cart, which held a pair of boxes and an odd-looking bag, all three strapped tightly in place. She tagged both her carry-on and the cart with her name, but no street address, only a city, then sat eagerly watching the window.

When the San Jose-bound bus pulled in, the girl left the station with her tickets ready, hauling the cart behind her to check it in the belly of the bus. The man behind the counter shook his head in silent laughter as the sweet-looking stuttering girl boarded the bus. He wished the kid well, God knows she was gonna need it out there.