I never understood why they left. Or why they left me with them, but what I do know is that everything they told me; everything that made my life perfect, was a bunch of lies formed to manipulate me. It's been proven day after day, and I'm done waiting, hoping, and praying for a miracle. Like I've been told, 'Hope is only something fools believe in'.

"Ellis Rose! You stupid little-" She screamed as her eyes searched the barn for me. Her red hair messy and windblown; her blue eyes harsh and cruel. She walks towards the hay barrels and stops, glancing over the space behind them. Obviously trying to trick me, she walks back to the large, chipped barn doors and exits while slamming one of the doors. I watch and listen for a few minutes, noting that her footsteps are those of someone pacing. Back and forth, back and forth; it never wavers until a deeper voice calls out.

"Vickie! She ain't in there! She's in her room with tha door shut an' locked. Laurent is pryin' it open now" James hollers.

Victoria's pacing soon turns into a full out sprint, heading away from the barn. I don't let loose that sigh of relief until I'm at the barn window, unlocking the deadbolt and carefully sliding it up. The window doesn't make a sound, and I smile. Maybe this will go on without a hitch; maybe I CAN make it out alive. Half-way up and still not wide enough was how high the window got before I heard the gunshot. Before I hear yells of anger and determination.

I give up on pushing the window up higher and boost myself up and onto the ledge, sliding one leg out the window and onto the soft patch of green grass. Shifting my weight to where I could get my torso out the window and closer to my escape, I lose balance and fall completely out the window. I grunt in pain before bouncing to the balls of my feet and taking off into a mad dash to the right pasture. Sweat, pants, and muscle spasms occur during the ten minute sprint to the pasture, but by that time, they've seen me and saw what I was aiming for.

The cloudy white GMC Sierra with the full tank of gas and brand new tires.

Never dropping my pace, I slide over the hood of the truck, stumbling as I land. My fingers hastily press the numbers on the automatic padlock. No luck. I press 5-7-5-4-6-2 again and again until I hear the click of the lock. My heart thumps wildly and my stomach twists in knots. I jerk the door open and hop into the drivers seat, slamming and double pressing the lock button.

James and Victoria are huffing and puffing from twenty meters away as I open the console. I peer down into the small compartment and grab the keys. Using my left hand, I twist the keys in the ignition and with my right, put the truck in overdrive, gas pedal to the floorboard as I steer off of the land. I don't look back, or check my rearview mirrors. I just keep driving until I reach the main highway.

That's when I burst out laughing. Screaming for joy. And crying for all that's been done.

I don't know how long I cried, or how long I drove, but what I did know was that the beeping from the 'Low Fuel' was irritating the heck out of me and I needed to pull over. Not seeing a gas station for the next hundred miles about screwed me over. I think I was on my last leg when I saw that pretty red Kangaroo on the right. Switching on the blinker, and turning into the gas station, I slowly pulled up to tank number one. Re-opening the console, I fished around for the wad of bills I'd stashed there earlier in the week. Once I feel it, I lift it up and gently removed two of the fiftys from the front.

After re-stashing the money back into the hiding spot, I open my door, and close it. I take a quick glance and notice I'm the only car at any tank, which surprises me. Taking a deep breath and opening the glass door, I am hit with the smell of strawberries and freesias. I inhale the scent and walk to the counter, smiling at the old man behind it.

"Hello, young lady. What can I get cha today?" He asks with a bright smile on his face.

"Can I get a hundred in the GMC, please?" I ask while sliding the money to him. He nods twice and puts the money in the register.

"Thank you." I say as I walk out the store and back to my truck.

As soon as the numbers flashed one hundred, I removed the nozzle and hung it back where I found it, then re-capping the lid to the gas tank. I smile and wave at the man as I drive off, turning back onto the highway.

Day turned into night while state lines crossed again and again. From North Carolina to Georgia. From Wisconsin to Oregon. Then finally, to Washington. I don't know how many miles, how many pit stops or how many McDonald's I stopped at along the way, but now looking at the 'Welcome to Washington, Home of the Rain' I could've cared less.

I. Was. Free.

And that's all that mattered.