The boy stood before the open window. Somehow, in the dead of night, he had managed to open it without a sound. Making a sound would surely have drawn attention to his room and attention would mean his incarceration at best, his death at worst.
It was now or never, he knew that, had known that in all his planning for this night.
He knew that this was his one chance to escape. Whatever dangers lay ahead of him, beyond the window he stood before, he knew that facing those dangers was better than staying here. To stay was to resign himself to a fate his very soul raged against. He had to take this chance, it was the only one he would have for several years. He was sure he could not survive in this place for several more years and retain his sanity.
He could feel the soft cool breeze on his skin, flowing in through the window. It was a good feeling, it felt like freedom, or at least a chance to save himself. He would rather take that chance, successful or not, than stay here.
He said one last silence prayer to his god, the god he had whispered to in the silent watches of endless nights in his room.
Then he silently climbed out of the window and was gone.