"Finally."

That was the first word of the day, and she could just picture the stacks of Christmas cards coming her way, all to be drawn, sorted, and organized. It was the same, and it was finally the day of the year that floods of Christmas money, packages of gifts, and sometimes even a big appliance would arrive. Then after, the people would, and not a single face she didn't recognize as they came in consecutively, one after another. Here, the mail didn't come to you, but you picked it up, insead.

Apart from monotonous faces, and small population, her home town was quite beautiful. The weather was unpredictable, but that simply, was what made it beautiful to everyone; It was a mystery. During the winter, everything was coated of white snow, beautiful crystaline structures flying everywhere, and not a building to block a beautiful sight. Long ago, she remembered going into her backyard despite the snow. She felt cold, but it wasn't the snow that made her feel that way. In the spring, all the fushia bugamvillea's would bloom within a white picket fence, then, in summer, grass would grow green. But that's exactly what made her feel trapped cold.

It wasn't the white picket fence that made her feel detatched, because beyond that fence lay miles of soft, rough, and dirty terrain. The distance itself served as a reminder that she'd never get out of Wales. She longed for flaws, she longed for adverture, and most importantly, an escape.

• a/n: so I wrote this at like 3 AM. The joys of insomnia OTL. yeaaa, so constructive critism or just let me know if you liked it :)