No one can take my imagination. No one can take the child inside, the me inside that is different to you. No matter what you do to me, it’s in these places which belong to me, that I am always free.
A wild wind blew across the field, shaking the trees so their pink blossoms floated to the grass beneath. Soft pink piles of silky flowers collected on top of each other as rain started to fall, softly at first then breaking into a heavy flow, lashing at the trees stripping their soggy blossoms. The sky changed from Summer blue to dark black and purple rain clouds, bursting with rain and rumbling thunder. A robin carried on singing from high up in one of the trees, she was not disturbed by the storm. Sitting under the trees was a child, a small girl. Her hair was plaited, tied with blue ribbons. The brown plaits hung over her shoulders, reaching almost down to her waist. She wore a green strappy sun dress with a matching hat to shield her freckled skin from the sun. Her feet were bare, sandals thrown off, the soft grass and daisies touched her toes and tickled them. She sat hugging her knees to her, as the rain came down soaking her through with warm raindrops.
She had been sitting under the trees all afternoon while the sun shone, watching birds land on the branches. Singing unique tunes to their tribe, launching themselves into the sky, soaring away upwards, diving down, carried on a Summer breeze, free as air. She loved to watch them, speaking to them like they were her tiny friends. She was wet through now, but she did not want to leave the trees, or the birds behind. This was her safe place, she’d walked here on her own one day, found it and claimed it as her own space where she could dream, where she could just be and make up happy stories. She would dream, then she was free! There was room inside her to imagine what she needed. She would see a soft and gentle place, green and lush with butterflies, dragonflies, birds and rabbits. It was a place of make believe and magic where she could play, dance and sing with her animal friends. She would fly away into an endless sky holding her magic wand. A delicate but wild force, a bright fairy creating safety with a swipe of a glittery wand. Safe felt like lying under a quilt with her teddy and her cat, curled up in a softly lit room with a window overlooking the sea, so she could hear the waves crashing as she fell asleep. She held this image inside her, she was safe when she could imagine this. With another swipe of her wand, glitter fell around her. A warm sunny feeling started to spread all over her body, until she felt like she was lit up from within. This was love surrounding her, right inside of her. As long as she had her imagination she could have safety, love and herself. It was lonely all right at times, but she had these special powers to keep her separate from the ones who hurt her and made her suffer. The books she read helped her in her resistance against them, because they gave her ideas for dreams and stories in which she was free, safe and loved.
To survive her childhood she needed the hope of another life. A free life. That hope she gave herself through her dreaming, so her imagination was her best friend, with it she built a resistance which kept her alive. This was the beautiful world that grew within her, helped by Mother Nature who never stopped giving wonder to her for her stories of loveliness. Nature was always there for her. Never abandoning her like the people did. She cast her little mind out to Nature, trusted her, as you would a best friend. What she built inside her so young and small was a promise to me that I could survive it all.