And she doesn't know it, but her mother hasn't stopped crying ever since she left, and his father keeps looking at the window every chance he's got, hoping for her to appear from the far. But it's just because they know she's not coming back, ever. They also know she is not coming back not because she doesn't love them, or because they didn't give her what she needed, she simply had to go. It was not a matter of wanting or choosing, she just had to.

Maybe no one will ever understand her, maybe her parents will always wonder why had she left so suddenly in the middle of the day, without saying the tinniest bit of her whereabouts. And not even she had planned to go, it just happen, not even an unsatisfied glance at dinner, or a complainful sigh at noon, no sign of her urge. But deep down, her parents always knew that would happen, always knew that that town was not a place for her daughter, that maybe she had gone and looked for better.

And if fact she did look for better, which was anywhere else, because despite everyone was lovely and good to her in that little village, she knew there were no hopes there. She couldn't live for a second longer in that place that murdered meaning, where her soul lost a drop of content every second she stood there sweeing, sweeping and swifting. She knew staying there meant to be one more ghost in that godforsaken place, she couldn't bare the broken ideals and the forgotten ambitions. And so she left, along with the spring, no one ever saw her again, for she was following a dream that came with the wind.



By I'm the penguin