Disclaimer: J.K's. Not mine.
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Entrapment.
As she breathed in the fresh air surrounding her, she could feel the breeze running through her hair.
How she loved to be free.
She loved being young, and running around the garden. She soared and dived through the long grass, and swung higher than her garden fence on her swing. She ran round and round, before wanting to explore further.
So she ran forward, vowing never to stop.
She was so engrossed in her 'flying' that she failed to notice the fence in front of her.
The plane crashed. She fell to the ground, picked herself up, started sobbing, and ran back inside.
She was lying on her mother's lap. Her mother was cradling her arm to her, whilst the little girl sobbed about not being able to fly further.
"Shh… there there…" her mother consoled. "It's all right, it's only a graze." But still the little girl continued to cry. Her mother turned her around and looked her straight in the eye.
"Now come on sweetie, you're never like this if you've just scraped yourself. What's the matter?" Her nine year old daughter looked at her.
"Mummy… why wasn't I able to fly further?" She asked with a whimper. Her mother considered this.
"Sweetheart, if you had gone any further you wouldn't be in our garden any more. You wouldn't be safe." The little girl nodded her head, and sniffled, but the tears ceased. She slid off her mother's lap.
"Thank you Mummy," she said sweetly. "I understand now."
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Fifteen years on from that event, the now grown up girl came out of her trance, before running away once again. She feared to be trapped again.
She paused for a moment, and licked her lips. Why, she did not know. She had an urge to.
She started running again, once she heard footsteps approaching behind her. Her hair whipping out behind her as the wind whistled past her ears, she padded on.
She couldn't be caught again.
She ran up to a wall. Her breaths coming quicker now as she began to panic, she remembered the little space she had when she grew up.
Desperate to find more space, she began climbing the wall. Her fingers slipped almost continuously as she scrabbled to find suitable foot and handhold, yet she continued. She could feel the presence of the person chasing her getting nearer and nearer.
Finally she reached her goal. A windowsill. As she perched in it, she gazed out the window, and saw fields. Fields that went on for what seemed like forever, all the way to the horizon. How she longed to fly free once again.
She unclipped the window, pushed it open. And jumped.
Down and down she fell. The adrenalin pumping through her, followed by fear. How could she have been so stupid? The freedom could never be hers.
She landed only one floor down from where she started, landing on her feet with catlike grace and rolling over her shoulder to stand back up again. Her breath coming out in small gasps, she looked out to the horizon. She could see the rolling fields and meadows. Her imagination went wild as she thought about running as far as she possibly could.
She walked to the edge of the roof, gazing down the storey drop that lead to the garden below. She took a deep breath, and jumped again.
She landed similarly to how she had done the first time, but instead of standing there, she raced out to the horizon.
She ran for miles, and felt so free again. It was like being a child again. She felt so elated, like she was walking on air.
Her hands suddenly dropped to her sides, and she stopped, and looked up.
There, in front of her, was an 8ft high green fence. With barbed wire at the top. She sank to the ground.
Without warning, a phrase that her mother said came flooding back into her head.
When she was twelve, she ran into the living room and asked her mother a question that had been bugging her ever since she was nine, and couldn't run past the garden gate.
"Mum."
"Yes?"
"Why do you stop me from continuing to be alive and free?" Her mother looked at her warily.
"Well… it's not really me that stops you…" She paused for a moment to think of how she could explain this. Her daughter was waiting patiently. "Just remember this. We spread our wings, fly free. But in reality all we do is brush our cages." Her daughter looked at her.
"So basically we can never be truly free?" Her mother was astonished at the wisdom her daughter showed. She nodded.
"Exactly."
He stood by the gate, and kicked it, as if hoping that she could be fully free. She so desperately wanted to prove her mother wrong. She could be truly free. She would be truly free. She would prove to everyone that it was possible.
She collapsed. Running all those miles had wearied her.
She felt strong arms lift her up and drag her back to her confinement. Her prison where she would be trapped inside her figurative cage.
Never to be truly free.
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16-03-08