Freedom

She pushed herself right onto the tips over her toes as she peered out over the ledge of the window. She hated the metal iron bars that blocked large columns of her view. Her slim hands locked around the cold rusted metal and she pulled herself higher off the ground. The chilling breeze nipped her bare skin as she struggled to see through the barred window. The sun was just beginning to set, sending spirals of orange, red and purple to taint the darkening sky. Stars were beginning to form, dotting the darker area of the heavens. The girl tried to capture the last ray of sunlight, but it disappeared behind the tall buildings just too quickly.

She felt hopeless as she sunk from the window. She was trapped inside this prison. Devoid of freedom. The very word sent tingles down her spine and quickened her heartbeat. Her back touched the cold concrete as she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. Her legs were slightly bent and she rested her hands on them as she closed her eyes.

Her dream was a memory that had resurfaced after what felt like years. She stood at the top of a building, the wind whipping her choppy black hair as she peered over the city. Her city. She stretched, pulling at her muscles gently until they loosened.

Her hands, although they were scarred and covered in dust, they were her hands. Her feet were encased in tight shoes with gripped soles. Covering the rest of her body was a set of light grey clothing that rippled when the wind hit it. 

She ran against the ledge of the building barely blinking as she jumped off the edge and landed on the next building. She scaled the wall on that building and continued running, jumping sliding and swinging through the city rooftops. She ran along the arm of a crane and pushed off the edge with both feet. Time had lost meaning as she seemed to float through the air, her body was stiff as she landed on the narrow arm of a neighbouring crane.

She felt good, the air in her lungs, running on the edge. Of course, her dream slipped away just too quick. And she was left with the hope that one day she would be free again. That she would feel the wind in her hair, smell the familiar scent of dust and dirt, feel the hard concrete under her feet, see the city from angles that are impossible to anybody else. And relish in the freedom, promising herself that she would appreciate it.