Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her hot tears streamed down them, warming them for a mere second, then instantly, nearly freezing on her reddened face. The cold air being forced into her lungs made her heart feel like it could explode, finally, after all this time, would this be it? Would her fragile heart, after all the years of pain and torment, finally burst as she ran through the dark woods, cold and alone, sobbing, no longer from pain and fear, but at the possibility of freedom? Could she make it? In her dreams sometimes she did, she would run, she would get to the field beyond the woods, circle around it heading north, remaining safe in the dark forest, and eventually come to the road. The road always represented freedom, it stretched as far as the eye could see in either direction. She had only seen it two times that she could recall in her short life, but she had heard them talk, she always listened, especially when they didn't know she could hear. The road led to other places, towns, cities, places where people didn't hide, places where people could help. The road led to everything. There were also the other dreams, the ones where they chased her through the woods, she wasn't fast enough, she wasn't big enough, it was too far, and they would find her, and drag her back, back to the hell, back to the life she tolerated because that is all she had ever known, but still would not accept. There was always a voice inside her that told her that this was not her place, there is something else out there, something better. This just couldn't be it. So she ran.