Flash Stories, Part 3

Yes, I am finally free. Out of that dark world I used to call home. Up from the dirt, the darkness that surrounded me, into the light. Who is that over there? A tattered girl kneeling on the rough ground. Her dress is torn, but you can tell it as well as herself used to be very beautiful. She cries and pleas, talking about returning home. Why does she feel her back with such anguish, does it hurt her? I will find out about her, crawl to her if I must. I can stand, I can walk, I can talk. Her voice is a melody, calming my black heart. She is lost, I am found. I will be there for her, care for this girl and her forgotten past, because I will be her future.