Unkept Loyalty – Andinah Power
Unkept Loyalty
4 hours, 32 minutes, 40 seconds.
As soon as I reached the mark of 4 hours and 33 minutes, the front door to the house quietly opened and shut, sending a faint rattle throughout the rackety area.
I had counted down every second until exactly 3pm, the designated time my parents would leave to get groceries, providing me enough time to escape.
Fishing around for the pin I had stolen from my mother’s drawer, I carefully located it and slid it into the lock of the closet door, the multiple crucifixes hanging on the wall rattling in disapproval as I did so. My parent’s form of punishment for thoughts of ‘sin’, as they called it, was to shut me in a cupboard full of crosses and bibles to repel my unholy spirit.
Ever since I was a kid, I’d never experienced a normal life. My parents were extremely religious, and they never allowed me to meet with other people or even be free to do whatever I wanted. But now it was my only chance.
Click.
The small door slid open like a coffin lid. A grim smell of smoke and harsh wood enveloped my senses, forcing me to cover my mouth whenever I re-entered the main rooms.
Never had I been granted such freedom as to roam the hallways without my parent’s eyes on me, yet I still felt strangely watched. I could feel the glare of every painting on my back, the whispers of my parent’s disappointment in my head as I neared the window I had prepared earlier as an escape route.
Peeking outside of the windowsill, it was evident the fall would be long—but the bushes I spied dimly at the bottom seemed cushioned enough to stem the injury of my descent.
I’ve never quite seen the outside world, instead catching only glimpses of it through the frosted windows my parents would often shield with curtains; as I was forbidden from entering the outdoors.
It was difficult to open the window, as it reluctantly swung open after years of not being used. My hands felt clammy as I swung my uncomfortably clothed legs over the sill, the harsh nails digging into my skin. I took a breath, and swung off.
Strangely, there was no pain as I landed in the bushes. In fact, it was a very soft landing—which was unusual, even though I had never experienced the texture of a bush before. Climbing out, I noticed the environment before me looked unalike to how it appeared from the safety of my window.
I reached my hand out tentatively, expecting the cold air to brush past my fingertips, but instead I was met with something crunchy and solid.
My breathing stopped, and before I could comprehend a sensible reaction to whatever material the ‘outside’ was made up of, I felt a heavy and familiar squeeze on my shoulder as the inner corners of the plastic scenery started to fold in on itself.
Andinah Power
Unkept Loyalty was a runner-up of Queensland Writers Centre’s 2025 Youth Writing Comp, for writers aged 10-16. For more information about Queensland Writers Centre’s Youth Writing programs, events and opportunities visit queenslandwriters.org.au/youthwriting.