• The black of the night was absolute, and the fire in me grew. I could feel the music's rhythm. It was creping in my heart, and soon it had engulfed my whole body. I was dancing in the streets again. It was my only retreat from that house. It was the only way I could vent my anger, and frustration towards those people. They were the worst kind of family that I could ask for... Lectures, no real education, beatings everyday, insults thrown from across the apartment or even the streets, no name, no identity, cold stares, cruel snickers, hard glares, evil smiles, seductive men, and so much worse. I always walked to the studio every morning, though. I would dance there for hours trying to perfect my style, and my rhythm. As well as improve every step that I took. My style was improvised, and my rhythm was unique. I liked songs that were quick, and choppy. Songs that helped me to vent my angers. The instructor was nice enough to allow me to continue dancing here without any costs. He always said to me:

    "One day, I foresee you being an excellent dancer, and who will be recognized for finding your talent as well as helping you to improve? So, get out there, and dance until you no longer can dance. Then dance even more!!! The winds will you on!!! It is your calling! So, go into the streets to dance when your anger arises. Your anger will help you to go on, and improve even more so than you believe."

    I always believed him to a fool who didn't know what he was talking about. Although, now... When I look back on his words. I see what he was talking about. I swung around the streets, climbed ladders onto roofs, flew from roof to roof, spun about like nothing mattered, and danced like nothing could damaged my armour. I could feel the rage lifting, and the clarity coming back to me. Soon enough all that was left was the music, and the dance. I clumsily stumbled home after a whole night spent running, and dancing in the village. It was a grand thing. So grand to feel so exhausted, and tired. Too tired to argue or fight. Too tired to even look at those fool-hardies. It felt so amazing, so great. So splendid. The feeling was truly something of desire, today. For today, it was my birthday, and I would need to be incapable of even the smallest of tasks. For it would be today that I would be the one doing everything around the house, and so much more that frustrate me to no end in doing. I would be running all over the village, and through to the next, too.

    Life in this place wasn't worth living. It was nothing that anyone wanted for themselves. So, I planned on one day leaving this place for good, and making my own story, my own way. I was going to go places, and see new things. I was going to never come back, I was never going to look back.

    One day, I knew I was going places, going to see new things, and have an adventure. Well, I got an adventure. One so short of breath that I was edge every moment. Ah, how the years passed without noticed...

    I walked so many miles, danced so many dances, fought so many fights, and came so close to death on so many accounts...

    Ah! Those were the years of glory! So wild, free, and untamed!!!

    Where did they go?

    Did they go the winds, or the fires, or the waters? Did they seep into the Earth?

    Maybe, it was just an escape from this reality, but it was worth the very effort. It was worth dying in the end to stand up for every reason that I held on my shoulders.