hiding in the attic if the enemies got to our home. But then I realized, wouldn’ t life still be the same? Even if I had to be protected when I slept, I’ d still be imprisoned. The level of imprisonment would not matter; I was still trapped in a bubble that I could not pop. I looked at the covered window and fell asleep with the thought of freedom still fresh in my mind.
I dreamt of how my life would be if I weren’ t a princess. Life would be so much easier, so much simpler. In the back of my mind, I hear myself yelling with joy as I play with the maids’ children. I wished that I was the daughter of one of the maids. They were careless and free, enjoying every second of their childhood. For them, it was a never-ending summer. As I dreamt of having the time of my life, I hear my mom yelling at me to come back inside. Gunshots could be heard from a distance. Even if I left my room to go out to the beautiful field, I’ d never be free. There are too many borders for me to cross. Too many obstacles a 15-year old could not deal with. I heard the gunshots getting closer, and I went back inside. Not because the gunshots frightened me, but the reality of my life did. I ran up to my room and ran to my glass window. I opened the curtains and before my eyes, the roses began to die and turn a bloody red. They were wilting, they lost their precious magic. The gunshots got closer and the field turned grey and dull. They were going to invade my home, for that matter, everything. The field lost its magic because the potential freedom was gone.
I woke up, tears trickled down my cheeks. I felt my face heating up. The nightmare had ended. No, I was living the nightmare. I could hear a voice telling me I had to enjoy the little beauty the field had left. I unlatched the window and opened it. I smelled the nature and indulged it, before running outside to enjoy the freedom I had left. I knew it wouldn’ t last long. I could already hear the gunshots from a distance.
By : Leslie Luqueno