Published via Ecency

Milly sat on the fence of her farm. Her hands grasped the old wood, heedless of the potential splinters. Heedless of the world. It too could be jealous of her. You see, Milly was happy.

The wind caressing her skin served as a reminder of the tender touch she never received. She loved the wind. it was her friend when nobody else came. Even now, at her most serene, the wind pushed her forward. It was as if it approved of Milly's plans. And God knew she needed approval. What she was about to do could be classified as stupid - and would be classified as dangerous.

Milly hopped off the fence to land on solid earth. As she walked towards her house she reflected on how she would miss this land. She had been tending to it for all her life. But no more. Her life of servitude ends today.

"Wher' 'ave you's been?" Her father, drunk as always, lazily leaned over the dining room table. "Done plowin'?"

Milly ignored him, and instead chose to head upstairs to fetch her trunk. She had prepared it the night before. He mumbled something but Milly didn't care to listen. She was done caring.

Her trunk was empty. Her clothes were haphazardly thrown all across her bedroom. Who -

"I knew you's wer' up to somethin'." Her father slurred from the hallway. "So I's found your little escape bag. Heh."

Milly turned on him with venom. "How dare you?"

"You think jus' cus' your ma' passed that you get to run away now?"

"This was never my home!" Milly was shrieking now. "And you were never my father!"

"Now, now." Her father wobbled over. "No needs for that ther' language, is ther'?"

Milly ran just as he was about to grab her. He stumbled, got turned around, and Milly slipped underneath him. She jumped the stair in two long strides and made for the door. She wasn't crying - she was angry.

As she ran on the solid earth she could hear her father coming after her. She knew she was more maneuverable and dexterous, but he was faster and bigger. She had to somehow get some supplies for the road, all the while managing to avoid the looming drunkard.

As she ran she could hear the wind howling, supporting her even now. She could feel it pushing her westward - towards the barn. Milly turned.

"You's wastin' you's time!" Her father shouted. "Nothin' in that barn! I'll jus' catch ye'"

Milly knew what he said was true, but she also trusted her friend. The barn, as it turned out, did offer something for her. A weapon. A prod, hot from the flames. She grabbed it. The wind had nudged her to receive the fire's blessing. It was like that book she read when she was little - The Friendly Elements. Milly internalized all this as she was climbing to the second floor of the barn. Where the hay was stored.

Her drunkard father caught up to her by then. He almost grabbed her hand, but she thrust the hot rod at his hand, listening to the skin seer. Her father screamed and Milly pushed him down the stairs. Brushing his skin with the rod again as she hopped down the stairs again and ran out of the barn.

The strong eath before her guided her steps as she made for the house. She could hear her father's raving and ranting, but she couldn't spare an ounce of energy right now. With the wind at her back and the earth beneath her feet, she ran.

She was as quick as she could be. Putting some food in a sack and grabbing some spare clothes. She was on the second floor when she heard her father.

"When I catch ye's, I'll beat ye's like never before! You's hear me, bitch?" He was stomping up the stairway,

Milly made for the only room that she could - the bathroom. Locking the door behind her in the nick of time. As her father pounded to get it, Milly realized she was trapped. And for the first time since the day began, she felt fear.

She ignored her father's threats as she looked for a way out. There was none. She'd thrown away the rod so she had no weapon. And she... Milly's thoughts got interrupted by the boiler overhead. Without a second thought, she climbed into the tub, her sacks around her shoulders. Slowly but surely the door was breaking open from her father's pressing.

The way the boiler was set up, would allow Milly to pry away the two tubes leading from their water supply to the tankard. She did just that as her father burst through the door, his face almost beast-like. She grabbed the hot tube, scorching her hand. Milly let the pain flow over her as she yanked on the tube with all her might.

It came out, and she used the now cooling tube to aim straight at her father. The pressure was large, nearly knocking Milly to the ground. And as the floor became slippery she almost fell. But she held firm as her father didn't. As he got knocked out in the hallway, Milly yanked the tube along with the other completely off, flooding the bathroom - and soon the house.

She made for it, jumping as her father tried to grab her. As he got up to chase her, a wave of water knocked him to the floor. Milly ran.

She knew she had destroyed the house with that move. But she felt no sympathy for a loveless home. The water was rushing behind her as she finally got out of the house.

Milly kept running, too afraid to look back. Her father wasn't chasing her anymore, she knew this, but she couldn't bring herself to look back.

She would never look back.

With fire and water as weapons, and earth and wind as guides, Milly had survived.

And Milly ran.