LOST WOODS

I Will Never Free You (Intro)

The sound of music filled the small box that was to be treated as a room. Panic by Caravan Palace. A girl circled around the small room, bobbing her head to the beat of the music, followed by the two big orange puffs that rested on her head. She walked with her eyes closed, her mind lost in the world the music was creating. Her fingers were pretending to be drumsticks, moving up and down along with the beat of the music as well.  She mouthed the lyrics of the song.

I will never 

Free you 

Hand in hand

She continued to move with the music until she heard the high pitched voice of an older woman call her name.

"Jordan," the woman said. "Come down stairs please."

Jordan headed over to her small bed dressed in black covers that sat in the corner of her room. She reached over the brown ukulele that rested on her bed and grabbed her small black phone sitting next to a red speaker. After shutting off the music she exited the room.

"Jordan!" the woman called out again.

"Coming Madison!" Jordan called back.

She rushed pass a couple of rooms and down the soft carpet covered stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet. 

"Madison?" Madison questioned as Jordan arrived in the medium sized kitchen. 

Jordan shrugged her shoulders. "What?"

"What happened to mom?" Madison crossed her arms.

"What happened to I'm adopted?" Jordan said, crossing her arms to mock Madison.

"What happened to being respectful to elders?"

"What happened to actually treating me like I'm your child instead of paying more attention to that fat dog you call your baby?"

The sound of a dogs nails hitting against the tiled kitchen floor grabbed Madison's attention. The small brown chubby dog sat down beside Jordan's foot. Jordan moved and inch away from the dog, shooting it a cold glare.

"Jordan, are you serious?"

Madison walked to the marble kitchen counter, reaching up to grab a cup from the light brown cabinet above. 

"I don't know," Jordan answered sarcastically. "Am I?"

Madison sighed. She went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of lemonade. Jordan watch the lemonade pour smoothly into the tall, clear, plastic cup Madison held down. The clear plastic of the cup now colored a light yellow.

"Why did you call me down?" Jordan asked, changing the subject.

"Well," Madison started. "I wanted to know if you would want to continue being home schooled or go to a public or private school."

"Madison, are you serious?"

"It's mom."

Jordan looked at her in disgust. How dare she correct her. She wasn't her mother. She would never be her mother as long as she lived.

"Look, if you're going to be in my house, where I pay the bills and make the rules, you will call me mom or mother."

"Look," Jordan mocked Madison, spreading a big and bright phony smile on her face as she walked up to Madison. "I will not call you mom or mother. I will call you Madison. You are not, and never will be, my mom. You don't even treat me like a human most of the time. So why should I give you the satisfaction of hearing me call you mom? You don't deserve it. Besides, you have a better chance of the fat mutt to call you mother."

Madison looked hurt, which made Jordan's phony smile turn into a real smile. She knew she had won this round. Madison sighed once more and turned to the cup of lemonade waiting on the counter. 

"I'm sorry Jordan," she said, voice just barely higher than a whisper. "I never meant for that day to happen. But I want you to know they really aren't out there. If they were and they wanted you back they would have been looking. You can at least accept the fact that you aren't by yourself."

Jordan was wrong. Madison had won this round. She stormed back upstairs, past the many doors to the many other rooms, and slammed the door to the small box room. Wiping away tears, Jordan sat on her bed and put the music back on, but this time, she turned the volume all the way up, making the red speaker vibrate in her hand. She mouthed the words to the song over and over again. Only stopping when the singing stopped in the song, letting an instrumental play for a while.

I will never

Free you

Hand in hand

Jordan thought about the first two lyrics.

I will never

Free you 

She would have to free herself from the stuffy small box pretending to be a bedroom. She would have to break the chains of boredom, frustration, and anxiety that was holding her down. She would have to come up with a plan. Jordan had to do everything for her self. But how?

The music circled the room like Jordan once did, causing Jordan's mind to wander off into the music's made up  world once more.