The difficult freedom of a runaway. |
Freedom was etched into my soul. It felt strange in my mouth as I said it over and over: Freedom, freedom, freedom. I had earned it. No more of being told what to do. Each pound on the soft earth was music to my ears. Soon the forest encased me, and I hoped with all my young-girl heart that I would never see that wretched kingdom or its dusty streets again. I ran for hours in the forest, to get as far away from my past as possible. The sun was setting by the time I stopped to catch my breath. My legs shook from the over-exertion and my bare arms were scratched by branches and wild rose bushes. Oh, but it was worth it. I was more happy than I ever had been. As I sat by against a massive trunk, breathing deeply and rubbing my weary legs, a warty toad leaped from a nearby fern. "I'm free little toad, if you wanted to know." I said to it, smiling in spite of myself. I surly was going insane. The toad paused for a moment, blinking rapidly. I snatched it up. "Not that you would care, for you are just a toad." I stood took a few steps with the squeamish toad cupped in my hands. Suddenly I was ripped off the ground by something very scratchy and rough. I dropped the toad in surprise. It fell, through the holes of the large fishing net and too the soft ground below. Without another glance, it bounded off into the bushes. I gagged at the fishy scent of the net that held me suspended in the air. I discovered that freedom was quite hard to keep. |