Euphoria (Original Story)

Euphoria. By definition, it is an intense feeling of happiness. 'Euphorium' is the past tense, as in "She was in a state of euphorium over getting her new car." My little town, Euphorium, was far from happy. At least to me.
It was your typical, perfect, small American town. Everyone knew everyone and everyone was friends with everyone. Except me. No one liked 'that science nerd, Amy Cratres'. By the way, my last name is pronounced like craters, the plural of crater, but everyone always pronounced it Cra-Trees. It annoyed me, that they didn't even have the common decency to learn how to pronounce my last name! It was infuriating.
I think the reason I found out about the conspiracy first is because I am far more intelligent than most of the dim-wits in Euphorium. I was a science, math, english, and history nerd. I also played the piano, flute, and violin. When you have no friends, like me, you have a lot of free time to learn these things.
Euphorium, as I probably should have told you earlier, was normal in every aspect but three. The first odd thing was that the town was surrounded by a huge, stone wall over two hundred feet tall and five feet thick. The second was that no one, under any circumstances, was allowed to leave town. The mailman came by every other day, to pick up any letters you might want delivered to a person outside of Euphorium. For some strange reason, no one outside town ever wrote back. The third strange thing was that armored soldiers patrolled the area around the Wall 24 hours a day. If anyone ever tried to leave, and they refused to just go back home quietly, they would be shot on sight. And then the newspaper would say they were missing, and not a word more.
I, personally, want to see what's outside the Wall. My curiosity and my knack for 'sticking my nose where it didn't belong' (as my mother said.) had always been my worst traits. I desperatley, desperatley, hoped there was more to life than sitting alone at lunch everyday and being teased for wearing thick glasses. So, a few weeks ago, I started making plans. Everyday I would skip lunch at school to read about rock-climbing in the library, since a wall was not that different. When I was at home and on the weekends, I would stay holed up in my room, studying the greatest super spies, con artists, and cat burglars in the last century, writing down anything that seemed helpful in my situation. My mother and father worried about me, they were nervous when I would run inside after school every day, grab a few peices of plain bread, and then sprint up to my room, never to be seen again until dinner.

Finally, after weeks and weeks of planning and mapping, I was ready.
I was going to escape Euphorium.
Come hell or high water, I had to leave, for my and everyone else's sanity.

I just had to.