Running away was always the plan. It was the only way in which she felt that she could really breathe. Stuck in a life that only few would understand she was always anxious and pacing. Working on a plan to leave the confines of her cell, she could barely expect anyone to understand.
Every night as she lay in bed, the sounds of the evening called to her. The scratching of branches on the window, the roof, and the outer walls, all spoke to her. They told her, "Be prepared, you time is coming." So she prepared. She wandered in her mind to other places. She did not worry not about how many people would miss her, or look for her or care what happened. She would be just another prisoner who broke out of her jail.
The problem was always this, there was no real prison; only the prison of her mind. The only jail, the one in which she locked herself up in tightly. She wished no real freedom because then, she would have to make good, she would be expected to live her life and be something. She would be forced to find out what everyone else already knew; there was nothing wrong with her. She knew there was nothing right with her. She was nothing.
It took her years to realize this. It was slow, gradual; but she knew that hiding was her only hope. One night, an owl forced its voice into her mind. She heard it hoot and hoot until the hooting sounded like words.
The words were simple ones, they were "Go now, go now". Go where, she might have asked if she had already considered it. Yet something inside of her did want to go there. She went out of her prison, broke through the cell door and managed to walk down the path until she was confronted.
The surprise of the cold sea as it enveloped her would allow no escape. As the liquid swept over her, it’s face to her own face, her limb to it’s rock; the shock at once paralyzed her and awoke her misted mind. She screamed. The sea hissed back and as it brought her to its depths, she was gone.
Copyright 2012 by SheilaTGTG55 and photo by Steve G. Luecht