Once upon a time there was a girl. She was a strange girl, but she was a lovely girl. And every day she would walk the same path, the same way, but never would she end up in the same place.
Francesca Arrabella was her name. And Francesca had been locked, in the same room, on the same floor, in the same building, on the same street, for all of her life.
Every day she would look out of the window at the path that winded away over the hill and she would imagine. Imagine what lay beyond the hill, imagined what it would feel like to walk, to feel the green stuff on her feet, imagined…
Francesca saw something in the distance. And what she saw brought a flicker to her eyes that had never been there before.
Francesca stretched her leg out from under her and slowly edged it towards the floor, it felt cold and the shock made her pull her foot back, but only momentarily, before she rested both feet on the cold, smooth surface beneath her bed.
She raised her head, determination in her eyes, placed one foot in front of the other, reached her arm out to the door, turned the knob, pulled open the door and for the first time in her life, she stepped outside.
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