After another failed plan attempt of escaping the farm Ginger stood in cabin 17 next to her bunk with a piece of charcoal in her feathered hand. Raising the charcoal to the drawn on paper nailed to the wall she crossed it out the newly failed plan with the charcoal.

Another failed attempt amongst the rest marked with a large X.

Dropping the charcoal with a sigh she pulled off the paper from the wall tearing it from the nails that had hung it not even taking the time to properly remove it.

Staring at the paper in her hands silently Ginger—without thinking angrily balled it up with a growl and threw it onto a pile of crossed out papers of the previous failed attempts. It was frustrating that with each new plan had failed time and time again making the pile grow. Fueled by anger and frustration the beret wearing hen glared at the pile with clenched fists as if it had personally offended her.

Unexpectedly, her gaze softened.

Unclenching her fists she sat down on her straw filled bunk slowly with her gaze shifting towards the wood floor. The anger she had faded quickly leaving nothing more but a deep despair. Sometimes even staying determined took much work and with each failed attempt of escaping the egg farm caused the hen to lose a chip of hope each time. Ginger was grateful that everyone one else was outside eating seeds that they wouldn’t see her so dispirited. The British hen blinked fast not allowing her glassy eyes to even shed even one tear before the gears in her brain began to turn once more.

A new plan needed to be made again. If she gave up hope then truly none of them would ever be free. Ignoring the pain in her heart she held fiercely onto the determination still nestled in herself. Ginger stood up quickly and began to pace around the cabin with a hard look of thought, already thinking of a new plan.