What the seniors told me the very day I planned for this, all of those were true.

When they told me their own experiences in full detail, I hardly believed them since their words slipped from their mouths in the middle of their laughter.

Their eyes seem to look into space as they travel back through time to recollect all their memories from when they were younger.

Despite the risk they once took, they seemed like they handled their own plans easily; furthermore, they like to joke about it all the time whenever I bring up my goals.

It was no use to share them what I plan to do since all they do whenever I would was to discourage me.

"Impossible, do you think you have the guts to do that?"

"Listen to me once, young one. We've all done that. And I tell you, you'll pee yourself in the end and surrender."

"You're insane," The oldest one told me. The rest laughed with him. "You're really a reckless one, I see."

"I bet you'll either be dead or be living in shame and regret when we see you again."

"For someone so weak, you have impossible dreams."

"We advise you to back out as soon as possible."

And they were correct when they told me that the first thing that would come to mind once I've begun is:

"God damn it, I should've listened."

But I've come so far from where I started just to give up now. I'd rather continue what I'm doing.

Everything is doing good so far. All things are going my way, despite the fact that there are a lot of things that bother me.

The wind at night was too cold for someone as sensitive as I am. The whole place is too dark, except for the places where the lights are moving around. The area turns into a maze at a time like this.

My eyesight had too adjust all the time, depending on the lighting of the place. Most of the time, I feel like I'm blind. Each step needs to be taken carefully or it's all over.

People tell me some succeed in plans like this, but they say it's all based on your luck.

Tonight, for sure, I'll be succeeding too.

---

I'm currently sweating despite the cool air blowing against my face.

The breeze feels so humid against my sticky, sweat-covered skin. I'd most likely bathe for hours once I get out of here.

I feel my sweat roll from my forehead, down to my cheeks, and straight down my neck. I have never felt so dirty in my entire life, and never have I wiped this much sweat from me since I was born.

Growing up as a person who prefers to stay at home wasn't a great help to my physical capabilities.

I easily run out of breath when I run. I get knee pains each time I progress.

Right now, I feel my heart pounding hard against my chest. My pulse was too quick when my index finger proceeded to check my neck. I can literally hear my blood flow in my ears.

There were footsteps outside, and I unconsciously held my breath as I hid behind a washing machine.

I hope they're dumb enough to skip looking for me in the laundry room.

I'm praying so hard that the canines fail to detect me.

Wait, do dogs get colds?

If yes, can they please be sick right now?

The last thing I'd ever want to happen tonight is to get chased by those dobermans.

Oh Hell no, not the dobermans.

Years ago, when I go to this place for whatever reason, they always seem to intimidate me. And I swear to God, they seem like they want to ravage me until they get to rip off my spine from my body.

They can be that wild, from what I heard.

And rumors say that the reason someone was never seen again was because he died from the dobermans' aggressiveness.

That alone could scare the living Hell out of me, but even before I heard that, I've already had a phobia of this kind of dog.

I remember getting bitten by my former friend's own doberman.

Up until now, I fear that dog.

I was so weak as a kid, crying as she cleaned up my wound. I remember her apologizing about it for a whole month.

I dreaded her for naming her dog as Cerberus. That dog lives up to his name.

That day, I swore to never go to her house, ever again. I keep coming back in contrast to what I said, though.

She was whom I love the most in the world, so why would her dog keep me from intruding her house over and over again?

Agh, I got distracted again.

It's hard to tell if they've already left or not. I badly want to get out of this place now, and I wouldn't want to get caught.

I have to test my luck now and see if they're gone or not.

Slowly. Slowly, don't rush. Don't be so impatient. Slowly.

Should I peek first or do I make a run from here?

If I run without confirming that this floor is cleared, I might be seen and be caught.

But if I peek, what are the chances of facing a doberman?

Damn it, I'm getting paranoid over dogs!

Okay, I'll peek.

One.

Two.

Three.

!

I stood up from where I was and sprinted away.

God damn it, where are the stairs?!

I ran, not even bothering being cautious of where I'm walking on. I just hope that my photographic memory doesn't fail me now.

I think there's nothing I can trip on, on this floor.

Yes, I think so.

But it's so hard making my steps lighter and faster.

I have to lift my leg as soon as I touch the floor, as to not make sounds. Because I'm pretty sure my footsteps would give away my location.

Are they still after me?

I looked back and the flashlight this person was using beamed at me. He was running quickly too, and my legs are about to give out.

I looked around, not stopping from running. My hair was all over the place and I can almost taste it.

The wind is still so cold.

Well, colder now, since I'm near an open window.

Sometimes, I can't believe at how dumb their security system is.

Like, if they don't want any one of us to escape, might as well close the ing windows. At night.

Okay, whatever.

So right now, I'm being chased, and the stairs are probably just around the corner. The windows are open. I'm on the fifth floor.

Of course, if I jump off the window, I'll most likely end up dead. I'll die from the impact of how hard my body would crash against the floor.

I learnt it from Science, that the height is directly proportional with the impact an object would have if it fell.

But now is not the time to recall Science classes.

Now, if I run to the stairs, there would probably be people there waiting for me.

If I jump off the window, this guy wouldn't be able to follow me, unlike running down the stairs.

Whatever I choose, I'd still get chased anyway.

Better pick the safest option, then.

I ran quicker, hoping that this person slips on something or steps on his shoelaces.

Will I make it?

Will this actually work?

Whatever.

"YOLO," I whispered to myself.

I hopped off from this floor, through the window, and I can feel the air resistance against my body on free fall.

Now, I'm having the urge to slap myself mid-air, close-eyed, feeling the need to throw up.

Have you tried bungee jumping?

Do you know that feeling you get while you're falling down? Have you felt that weird feeling your stomach makes? It feels so ticklish from the inside; too ticklish, that I want to vomit whatever I ate today.

I felt my stomach doing backflips, and I can't believe I'm just hugging myself for safety.

I'll never jump from the fifth building.

Actually, I'll never jump off from any building ever again. That is, if I make this jump and end up alive.

My eyes are still shut, and as soon as I felt my right arm break, I knew I've landed.

Am I still alive, though?

Yes?

Yes.

Yes, I'm alive.

But . You should've heard the way my arm cracked.

That is nasty.

I am in obvious pain, and no matter how much I try to move my arm, I end up trying to stop myself from screaming.

It hurts so bad.

It feels like a sprain, but a much nastier sprain.

Am I bleeding?

I'm lying down the ground.

How am I even still alive?

I wouldn't be able to support myself well once I try to stand up, thanks to my broken arm.

I rolled over to my left side and positioned my arm in a way that would help me sit up.

Thanks to my ballet classes when I was younger, I knew how to stand up without the help of my arms.

And so I did.

I looked around and noticed that I'm still not on the ground floor.

This is...

I peeked down.

This is probably the balcony from the third floor.

The view didn't help. When I peeked down, I felt more nauseous.

Before I was able to stop myself, I opened my mouth and bent from the rails of the balcony. I felt a push from my stomach, and within a second, I tasted something sour swirling inside my mouth and threw everything out.

I did it.

I threw up from the third floor balcony.

Something was dripping down my chin, and so I proceeded to wipe it off using my left hand (as I cannot lift my right arm as of the moment).

It's still dark out, but thanks to the moon, I can analyze what this is.

It was my lunch from earlier. Buttered broccolis and mashed potatoes. A mixture of them. And probably some blood.

Pretty sure that I'm going to die soon if I continue to bleed directly or indirectly. But not yet. Not here.

It would be so lame if the balcony would be my resting place.

I mean, sure, I'd be seeing the stars when I die here, but I deserve a better place.

I turned around. The door to the balcony is closed.

The knob was locked. I kept pulling it down, but it just won't budge