I’ve always been controlled.

Whether it’s as simple as what time I’m getting up in the morning or what cereal I should eat, it doesn’t matter.

It’s never my choice.

My grades, my clothing, who I hang out with, my life.

It’s all their choice.

From when I get up to when I go to sleep, it’s all their decisions.

I want to disobey, I want to run away, but I can’t.

I owe everything to them.

I know that I shouldn’t complain, I know that it could be worse.

However, it just nags at me, the terrible feeling that I’m not my own person.

I’m their doll, their robot, waiting for my next command.

I had a dream once.

I was falling freely in the sky; the thin wisps of cloud were the only thing holding me up.

They let me through, and I plunged through the air.

The wind kissed my face and pulled my hair away from eyes, giving me a clear look at the world below.

There was a certain kind of peace.

For the first time, I felt completely

and absolutely.....

free.