The Road Not Taken

Flashbacks consume her as she sleeps; drenched in sweat her anguish only seems to continue. Rolling and twisting around in a constant whirlwind she is incapable of sleeping as her memories resurface. In her dreams she sees herself sitting on cold concrete steps, her arms wrap around herself as she rocks back and forth. She soon watches herself say goodbye to the man of her dreams as he marches out the door with silent tears rolling down his cheeks and last but not least she finally sees her father. The man stands above her with a victorious smirk across his face as he whispers confidently, "Your life is mine."

With a startled cry she awakes as she tries to catch her breath but the effort seems almost futile. She grasps her hair in her hands and sits cross legged on her bed. Looking up, she gazes out at the forest lost in thought. She silently listens to the howling of the wolves and longs to feel what they feel, Freedom.

She recalls her father of noble expectations; high class collars with their own sense of obligations. The rules the man had imprinted in her conscience always sent a searing sense of responsibility through her mind and it constantly seemed to smother her dreams in to non-existence. She was always sent into those strangling meetings bare to world and it always reminded her that she was trapped in a hereditary cage with no chance of escape. Her dreams of escape slowly demolished and soon she had succumbed to their commands. No longer did the will to become an individual flourish, instead it withered with her soul.

Her father made her say good-bye to her career as nurse and hello to the world of politics. Her sense of compassion was tied and locked away in the recesses of her mind through her chocking reports and deathly boring lectures. Not to mention her boyfriend of six years left for he could no longer handle what she had seemed to become; her father. He had tried to stick it out as he watched her come home from work with her face drawn in and black bags beneath her eyes. The pain became too much as he packed his bags and walked out of their home, her life forever as the words, your just like him floated through the air. It hit her like a ton of bricks as she slowly but surely was being sculpted to her father's desires.

No one had thought otherwise for she had the fantasy life everyone dreamt of. Her life was filled with money and accessories; the life of a heiress. She was living everyone else's dream but her own.

The saddest part of the whole thing, she thought to herself, was the fact that it all could have been rewritten but, alas the fear of change and her father restricted her. She continued on with her father's schedule and her life of endless lies. If onlys seem to flood through her mind and she eventually blocked them out, for a bit.

Dawn finally broke through the clouds as she wasted her only time for dreams away. The wolves' howls dimmed with the darkness and so did her thoughts. As the sun streamed through the cracks of her satin curtains a yawn released the silence from its prison. She crawled out of her lilac satin sheets and mechanically walked over to her massive closet grabbing the closest outfit. Putting on the attire she neatly smoothed the wrinkles off of her black designer skirt and flicked off the imaginary piece of lint off of her matching jacket. Upon her white silk blouse laid a pure silver necklace with a wolf pendant upon it. She was ready for work; her appearance was perfect, a stalk contrast to her false life. Placing her small delicate feet in heeled toeless sandals she stood in front of her large mirror as a reflection of an empty woman seemed to reflect back at her. She had everything on, almost everything anyways; her last and final touch was the cold, indifferent mask placed on her pale porcelain visage.

With that she marched out of her house. The sleek, midnight black carriage door slammed shut as the faces of envious clan members stared down at her. With a shrug she rested her chin upon nimble hands as she gazed out the darkened window. She pondered upon the emotions of her broken family. How could they be envious of the chains constantly tugging at her neck like a leash, envious of soulless people grabbing and taking everything from her, or envious of the tormenting thoughts of what might have been.

She lividly bit her lip as her hands clenched beside her. It might be too late for her but for her children in the future; it will never come to this. They will live their own story, written by them alone. Removing the charcoal bangs that swept across her lunar eyes she made a silent vow. Soon her own victorious smirk settled upon her face, as her final thoughts came to her, "It was father, it was yours."

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I only own Naruto in my dreams. A one-shot with a silent meaning. I did not fully mention who the protagonist was but I'm sure it was not to difficult to guess whom it was. Pardon the grammar and other mistakes I never did to well with catching the mistakes. I enjoyed writing it so I can only hope some enjoyed reading it. Please review it is nice hearing from the lovely people of