August 14th, 2015 // A Vignette

   She threw her knapsack onto the floor and glanced around. Only so much would fit, and that'd be all of what she'd be able to take.
   Shirts, shorts, and a pair of jeans, all rolled up tightly, were stuffed into her bag. Money—she grabbed all that she had. She'd have to get everything out of the bank at some point.
   Her diary, a toothbrush and toothpaste, lotion, her little camera, and her two favorite novels attempted to find their way in, but there wasn't room. And how could she fit her blanket?
   She stared at her knapsack and nodded. "Okay."
   It was her consent.
   Consent to gain her freedom, to run so she could fly. And to do that, to let herself go completely, all she needed was to survive.
   So the money and a few articles of clothing stayed inside, along with two bottles of water and her toothbrush and toothpaste.
   Plenty of room to spare for the opportunities ahead, and not too much of a burden to weigh her down.
   In three minutes, with her knapsack slung over her shoulder, she slipped out of the window—into the enticing darkness that would set her  f r e e.

. . . .

Rebekah