The sun was harsh on her neck, on her cheeks. It felt surreal –real light, contrary to the artificial lamps she'd grown so used to. Her skin felt the shock of the temperature, of the rays of sun in her eyes. It hurt, but it electrified her senses. Sweat immediately began to trickle down the sides of her face, her pale brown hair sticking to her skin. The warm soil beneath her bare feet felt peculiar. She couldn't quite remember how she'd lost her shoes. Perhaps it had been when she'd woken up that morning. Or perhaps she'd lost them while running out the vault door. Whatever had happened, her toes were smiling up at her as she gazed down at them. Slowly, she took her first deep breath of freedom.

It hadn't been easy to get where she was now. She hadn't merely stepped out of the vault and waved to the world outside. Oh no. She'd been planning this for months now, ever since her sixteenth birthday. She'd felt so old, so mature and ready to take on her future. That's when she realized that there was nothing to take on but responsibilities. Ones she didn't want. She didn't want to become a professor like her father, or a cook like her mother. She didn't want to say hello and goodbye to the same faces for the rest of her life. She didn't want to marry goody two shoes Patrick. They had been friends since they were born, but that was all they ever would be. Leaving him behind was probably the hardest part of leaving.

"Pat… Pat… Patrick, wake up!" She smacked him upside the head. He'd always been a heavy sleeper, a thick line of drool cascading down his cheek and soaking through his fluffy white pillow. He jumped to attention, his eyes still closed.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice scratchy and harsh. Not suited for his long, thin body. He looked younger than his eighteen years, more innocent. Slowly he rubbed his face, and his brilliant green eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him, his oh-so-familiar face always bringing a warm feeling to her heart. "What time is it, kiddo?" She rolled her eyes –she wasn't that much younger than him, yet he always insisted on calling her 'kiddo'. It was ridiculous.

"I'm getting out of here. I need your help, Patty." Patrick paused, shaking his head and blinking a few times.

"What are you talking about? Can't this wait until morning?" He made to lie back down, but she grabbed his forearm and gave a firm tug. He wrenched back roughly, before rolling his shoulders and pulling himself up and out of bed. He gave a gruff mumble of something unintelligible, before getting to his feet. Upright, he was at least a foot taller than her. He never let her forget it, either. He was constantly making jabs at her height, poking fun and teasing.

"I'm getting the hell out of this vault, Patrick," she said, "and I need you to help open the door. I stole the key from the Overseer's office."

"You what?" Patrick cried, and she quickly slammed her hand over his mouth, cutting him off before he had the chance to object further. Once confident he'd keep his trap shut for a moment, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his room, through various pitch black hallways. Illuminating the way with her Pip-boy light, they made their way all the way to the round, rusted vault door. Printed in big black letters where the words 'Vault 111'.

She turned to Patrick with a reassuring smile on her face and dreamy eyes. He gazed down at her with complete and utter fear.

"Patrick, Patrick you need to listen to me. Remember when we were kids –" The alarms started going off. Nobody was supposed to be in the room with the door. It was a strongly enforced rule. She placed her hands on the sides of his face so that he had to stare straight at her, hoping she'd ignore the sounds for now. "Remember when we were kids, and we would imagine what it was like outside? The big scary monsters? How you'd save me, the damsel in distress, and then we'd live happily ever after?"

"What… What are you talking about? That was all stories? You can't actually be leaving!"

"I am, Patrick! I am! I need to have my happily ever after, and it's not here! I can't stay in this stupid vault any longer, having my life planned out for me. I need excitement! I need change!" She took a deep breath. "I need you."

Patrick stared at her, his eyes wider than she'd ever seen them. He had always been so happy, so content with his life. Nothing strayed from the normal for him. He was always in control, and that was how he liked it. Right at that moment, though, he seemed just about to pass out.

"I… I can't! I can't leave my family like this. You can't leave your sister behind! She's only seven! You want her to grow up without her sister?" He tried grabbing her hands, but she slipped them behind her back. Her eyes traveled to the floor. She had thought he'd come with her. She'd thought they'd be friends forever. But as she heard the sickening sound of boots clanking against the tile floor, growing closer, she shook it off. She was strong –always had been. From the start, she wanted to do things on her own and her way. She was stubborn, to say the least. She was getting out of this vault whether these people wanted her to or not.

She slipped the key out of her jumpsuit pocket and slapped it into Patrick's outstretched hand harshly.

"Then open the god damn door, you useless son of a bitch."

Patrick looked like she'd slapped him straight across the face, but said nothing. He knew that her only choices now were either to escape or get caught and punished. She knew his heart was probably racing just as much as hers was, but determination spread across his face as he strode over to the dashboard on the opposite side of the room. Scanning the various buttons, he spotted a key hole and slid it in, turning it and looking over his shoulder to glance at the slowly opening vault door.

She felt the breeze hit her face, the light filter in, but it was short lived. The sound of a gun going off made her nearly jump out of her skin, and she twirled around to face the group of men who had been sent after her. They all clutched fully-loaded pistols, and one of the men, the overseer, had his aimed and smoking, pointed at the ceiling.

"You don't want to do this…" It was obvious they were just trying to spook her, but she couldn't help but panic.

"Run! Run, now!" Patrick yelled, and she only had time to glance over at her best friend, his frightened emerald eyes, before she stumbled backward, tripping over the bottom of the round vault door, losing her shoes in the process. Gasping, she forced herself back onto her feet and swirled around, taking off into the unknown. She heard yelling and guns blasting, and then a slow but loud clang as the vault door closed behind her.