I glanced over my shoulder. No. Nobody was watching. The first few steps I took were cautious. The ones that followed, accelerated . Then hurried ones. I scampered through the thick thicket of vegetation to reach the tower. As soon as I reached the base of the tower I halted. The piece of cloth in which I had hurriedly stuffed in all that I wanted up in the tower were all slipping from my grip. I adjusted my hold on it , took a deep breath and climbed the tower with the help of the make-to-do rope. It was actually my own braid which I had chopped off the last time. I had used it to climb down the tower.
The moment I set my foot inside my room, I let go of the grip. All that I had collected just rolled out. Some of it rolled under the bed, some disappeared under the closet. I flopped down on the floor and clasped the nearest object I could lay my hands on. My face felt warm and so did the back of my neck. Over the evening, I picked up all that I had brought with me and clumsily stuffed it in my closet.
Then I got up as suddenly I had sat down. I stretched myself on the bed. As I looked up to the stone colourless pale ceiling, I sighed. This has always been my home. Each time I ventured out, I came back just the way I did today.
I clutched my pillow and turned to my side. I will be staying here for a while.