Freedom

Some people don't under stand how crule the world can be to a young woman who is all alone. Some times there is no escape from the horror. She has found her way out. She had a understanding with a rancher . She had been living alone in this old abandoned house for almost two years.
    Sara was never missed ,and here she was safe from the hell she escaped from.

         The first year was rough, having to find independence , but once she got used to the idea of complete freedom she grew in to her life as a child grows into there shoes.
She had even gone s far as to build a new outhouse and repair the old wood stove.
       Alone in the middle of a hidden valley a hundred mile from any city deep in the lost masses of the montana prairie she found peace. She could dance naked under the stars by fire light sit upon her roof top to soak up the hot montana sun, and no one was the wiser.

    In her heart she knew this heaven was only temporary .. but at the time thats all she needed. At only 15 she was still just a child, but the hell she had seen had pushed her to a hard grown up world.

      

Alone.

A old farm house sits in the valley. The dew freshly set the grass a glow with the morning sun.  The crackled wooden  and dusty remains of paint on the old house reflects the years it had seen.
    A blanket hanging over the window soaked up the morning letting tiny drips of sunlight seap through. A dark cave brought to life by little droplets of light .
     A mattress lay flat on the floor wrapped in black silk sheets . A tangled mess of black silk and ivory skin could only be explained by a tangled mess of blonde curls thrown over the pillow. 
    Gently the sunlight warmed her bair hips and slowly as she opened her eyes the sunlight jumped inside.  And the sunlight danced across the pale blue.  She stretched her long thin body sinking under her sheet to hide from the morning but it was no use.  Eventually she slid out from her sanctuary and stood to her feet.
  She crossed the house the short distance to the frunt door which stood open as there was no door, she had no need for one.  She stood wrapped in her sheet gazing over the valley. It was empty but for a deer.  In the drive way set her  chopper also a glimmer from the morning dew.  It was glorious ... her chopper .. it was freedom.  Even the rust, the metals sloppy welds , the obvious look of its amateur construction, these traits couldn't change the feeling that came over when she looked at. This was more than metal and rubber, no , this was her trusted friend, this was her salvation.