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AMERIICAN REQUIEM ✹ "THE SIMPLE LIFE." // ONE
ALL WREN CHARLOTTE DUTTON HAD EVER WANTED WAS A SIMPLE LIFE. Every birthday wish, every shooting star, every time she crossed her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut. that would be her only wish.
And yet, at the age of twenty five — that wish was still to come true.
People would take a glance upon the surface of the life that she lives — wealth, land, family, health and think she already lead a simple life already. But nobody looked further in, her father made sure nobody expect those on the ranch about the ongoings.
Wren desired for a small cabin by a lake, nothing big and extensive like the house she grew up in. Just four walls to keep her steady and roof to keep the rain out. A small porch with a chair she'd watch the stars at night or the sunrise in the morning.
Where her guitar would softly strum and mix with the peaceful trickles of water or singing of birds. It was a life most people didn't see the point of, but it was everything Wren had ever wanted.
The slam of the door of the house that causes the slip of her hands on the kitchen sink. Whatever her eyes were fixing on as she looked out the window breaks her back into reality.
Exhaling a breath that sat heavy in her chest, a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding.
Head turning towards the part of the house she had heard the noise. Lifting one of her hands to pick up the cloth she soon dried her hands on before throwing it back on the counter.
The soft sounds of grunts paved her path from the kitchen, a house that was barely with noise for as long as Wren could remember. Her four brothers and one sister made this place almost immune to quiet, at least in their youth but not much has changed.
