It was twenty seconds before the bell would ring. We would be free, and like a thousand desperate birds we would effortlessly fly out the doors of the grand prison that was public education. And then it rang, yet slowly and hesitantly did I wobble out the door, large backpack in tow. None in the school could know where I was going, what the truth of my home life was. It was better that way. Shamefully I denied study groups and movie nights from gathering at "my place"; in this same shame would I hide my face upon exiting the school each day.

Slowly did I turn away from the main road. The town was small, with most homes reached by way of this road. For this reason I had to turn away casually and sneakily, so as not to evoke questions. None could know the truth of my circumstances.

I continued down a dirt path, and up the mountains south of the school. I tripped a few times, dirtying my jeans. I sighed, knowing I'd have to find a way to clean them before evening.

Finally I came upon the tall, aromatic cedar that held my handmade hammock. My things lay about on various shelves set in the branches, and a roof was made of even more wood. In a sense, it could have been considered a light tree house, but in shame I could not see it as a house.

I set myself down in the branches and sighed. I closed my eyes, and softly began to sing. And soon walls sprung up around me. There was a solid, stable roof over my head. I had electricity, and plumbing, an A/C. A huge family running happily through the house like so many kittens. Lights hung brightly above my bed, which squeaked as I jumped onto it. And still was there the scent of cedar, so beautiful and complementary to the loving scene around me.

I opened my eyes, which were teary. I grabbed my notebook and started on my homework.

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updated Sep 26 '10 by ScarletteRain