Two weeks later, it was time. You'd gone to bed early and Townsend had come for you around 2am. Now you were dreading every step as you made for the ground floor, the walls' comforting closeness soon to be a thing of the past.
After too short of a time, you reached the ground; a cold breeze flew in and you found the grate it was coming from, working together with Townsend to remove it.
This was it - your first step outside. You stood next to Townsend, your knees shaking, every part of you horrified by what was about to happen. At least in the darkness the sky didn't seem so far away, so oppressively big.
Stepping out, you breathed in the cold night air and wrapped your four layers around yourself. "Where to?" you asked Townsend, looking around.
Though you'd spent the two weeks preparing, neither of you had dared leave yet. However, you had snuck glances around at nearby buildings. You couldn't be sure about the demolition status of any of them, though. For now, your target was the apartment block down the street, three buildings away from yours. The "Dalton" tower, you believed it was called. Regardless, it seemed a simple enough journey in the dead of night.
You forced one foot in front of the other, sticking close to the walls of your building at first until you reached the end of it, then you rounded the corner. You could see your target straight ahead of you; for someone your size, the walk was around 3 miles. You estimated it would be about an hour to make it there.
For a while, you moved in silence, which was good as tears were rolling down your face and you imagined Townsend's too. You reached the end of the building and you had to take your hand away from it. You did so slowly, achingly, before focusing on the task at home.
After you'd walked another 10 minutes, about halfway along the Townsend stopped and gasped. "Look," he said, pointing ahead with a shaking hand.