Letters, Words, Freedom

a vignette from a multi-genre project my freshman year

     Perfectly chosen words, made of letters, sitting on a page, I wrote them. Myself.

     These words describe life. They describe my life. They tell the truth without the lies. They just say, this is how life is. Through the words, I am free. Nothing holding me down. My story is on the page for the world to see. Except it's not my story anymore. It's hers.

Whose?

     Her's. The girl's. I tell the story like it isn't real, like it's fictional. I tell it how it is without the pain of truth stabbing through my soul. People will know, they will see, they will read about my pain, but they will never know it's me. I don't have to worry about what they will think.

     I can the outcome. I have the freedom to choose how it will be. Because I am free. Through my letters, my words, freedom comes to me.