She slipped out though the front door and stood on the porch. That long, creaky, but picturesque porch. It was the porch that basically sold them on the idea of making this particular slice of Suburbia their very own.
(more) The air was heavy with moisture. Within seconds of stepping foot outside, she could feel her skin becoming damp with sweat, likely ruining the face she had spent so long sculpting to perfection earlier in the day. The sound of cicadas sang through the woods surrounding the house, almost deafeningly so.
She sat on the stairs near the bottom of the porch, feeling a whisper of a breeze so soft and brief that it felt cruel. Her family sat behind the porch, within the walls of her home. She could hear the sounds from the television over the sounds of everything outside.
"They're oblivious," she thought. Then she said it out loud.
She closed her eyes and gave into the thing she avoided the most - letting her mind wander. It was dangerous to entertain dreams and memories. The toll was too great. The consequence too steep. Even still, she gave in without hesitation. A moment of weakness. A moment of hope. Oxygen. Life. Liberation.
She stood up, opening her eyes. Brushing away the few tears that had fallen, she shook off the intoxication of self indulgence. She walked to her car and climbed in, turning the keys in the ignition.