The sun was rising, shining bright beams of light into the dark, gloomy attic. From a distance, she watched a leaf dancing in the breeze, and landing carefully on the damp grass. The pale pink cherry blossoms were falling off the trees, fluttering around before perching on strands of damp grass. She watched the flowers dance rythmically in the breeze, as she sat sat beside the window of the attic. She traced some wavy lines into the dust hiding the beauty of the outside world, wishing she could be out there too. One day. One day she would be out there, dancing and spinning with the flowers, and making daisy chains to thread through her hair. If only she could get out of here. She closed the dusty, velvet curtains, blocking off the stream of light. Reality struck like a lighting bolt. There was nothing beautiful about the dust clinging to the walls, or the musty smell that hung around the small room. Freedom. That was all she needed. The floor creaked beneath her, as if it was going to fall from underneath her feet. She sat down on the wooden floorboards, and leaned against the cold brick wall, dreaming about daisy chains, flowers, and most of all; freedom.
