Part 3: Did I Dream That?

When I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and a steady warm breeze flowing through the walls of my crap shack, I smiled. The dark and evilness from the day before was dead and gone, bringing with it a peace offering for the hell of yesterday.

 

I stood, stretched, and looked out at the garden. This was the first night in a few months that I hadn’t spent in the garden, but the first of all time that I slept without the fear of being awoken by Mr Rowley in a rage. It was an odd thing for me; I was so use to living in the wrong, that this was almost as sweet as the icing off of a cake. I bet this was what freedom tasted like: the warm sunlight pouring through the open window, a gentle breeze to accompany it, bringing many birds along for the ride, the smooth scent of seawater in the air...

 

I changed my clothes and headed for the house, when I noticed that the Rowley car was no longer in its parking spot. The Rowley’s were very precise in how they did things; they were creatures of habit, and if they did something to break that habit, they would go mental. Yet they thought that’s how everyone lived: by organizing and filing everything perfectly. It was almost a disgrace to do anything but what they wanted, which is why I was never told to clean while they were absent.

I took a walk inside, and noticed a note tapped on the inside of the door.

 

Went to meet with D Lagg, be back in a few hours.

 

A few hours? They were leaving me alone in the house for longer than normal? Besides the doctor’s visit that came daily from 2pm to 3, I was alone. I checked the clock and noticed it was only 9:30, and knowing the Rowley’s and how they like everything perfect, they left half an hour ago. They never left the house before 9, which was another stupid rule of theirs I always seemed to neglect.

 

So I had the whole day to do whatever I wished, before the strong hand of the household law came back. I smiled and skipped off to the living room, and took a seat in the very center of the couch. I was never allowed in here, let alone on this couch. It was always reserved for “special guests.”

I picked my feet up and placed them on the wooden table in front of me, and picked up the remote, which was again, against the rules. I flipped through channels until I came up to a music station that played music videos. I jumped up and started dancing to the uptight beat of the drums as a male singer sang deeply into the microphone.

 

I hadn’t felt this free in years, since I lived in the orphanage in London, where we could do anything. They let us leave for up to weeks at a time, as long as we left something of value behind; it had to be something we cared deeply about, and something they knew we couldn’t abandon. I left my mother’s necklace and my father’s watch, both made of pure gold. I knew they would be safe while I left and played with the other children.

I remember one day going down to the beach, and swimming until we could barley move a muscle. My friend Benny and I would take turns swimming, and watching over the towels that we left lying on the beach. The water was always cold, but we warmed up to it, loving the sounds of seagulls flapping above our heads, coming close to them as we lead them closer with the promises of food.

 

I remembered hearing the Rowley’s talking about a beach, Shower beach I believe they called it. They said all the other children in the area played there, and that it was unsafe late at night.

 

I didn’t care about safety, I wanted to swim, to feel free again. I grabbed up the remote and flicked the TV off, grabbing up my shoes and running out the door, towards the beach. I didn’t know where it was, but I knew I could find it just by the smell of the water; I could find almost anything with my nose, it was like my superpower. I got to the end of the driveway, and looked to the right and left, smelling both. My nose said the left, so that’s where I ran.