The rain poured down the ground as Sana laid on the cold floor of her bedroom with her face full of bruises and deep scars.

Her bed sheets were drenched in her blood, her sobs echoed inside the room.

Freedom is what she desires, what she dreams of each night she cries to sleep.

All her life, she never experienced such thing.

She's never felt this weak, all her life, she tried to stay strong. She couldn't take things anymore.

If she could only run away. How she wishes that she could.

Sana tried to stand up, but couldn't. All her attempts were unsuccessful.

What can she do? She feels hopeless, afraid, weak, and hurt.

She hates that her life was plotted like this.

She then tried to rest her hand on her bed's matress as she attempts to stand up.

And so she did. She succeeded on that try. Her legs were shaking, she felt weaker everytime she steps forward.

Why must she experience such painful present.

She then sat on her bed, and took deep breaths, resting for a while before she thinks of anything.

"I must get out of this, I must escape this household," Sana thought to herself.

But her doors were locked, she has nothing to use to open the door, or to defend herself.

She looked around, all she could see was blood from around her room, her clothes, and this painful past of hers.

She wanted to escape, to run away from everything.

And so she at least tried to do so.

Sana noticed that her window isn't locked, so she opened it.

The sound of the rain got stronger, loud thunders were heard better that it scares her so much.

But she had to be brave for some time, t