Freed by Fate

    The cold morning air filtered into Poppy's room unwarranted, causing her to shiver under her covers. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, casting waves of bright yellow light onto her wooden floorboards. Poppy forced her eyelids to remain shut, as she tossed to the other side of her bed, trying to block out the early sunbeams. The farm was still, save for a distant occasional crow of a rooster. Poppy could hear the rooster drawing closer to her window, and stifled a groan. Her internal clock had awoken her with the arrival of the sun, but she still enjoyed laying in silence in her warm little bed under the blankets.     The rooster was getting abundantly close now, and within five minutes its croak was right underneath her window. Unable to relax any longer, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She sat up in her bed and yawned, wiping at her eyes to help them adjust to the filtering sunlight. She could hear her mother awake now; her footsteps echoing inside the kitchen down the hall.      Poppy stretched her arms up and then forced her legs to stand. Today was Sunday, which was the day her mother allowed her to go to the market to grab groceries-alone. Even at the ripe age of twenty-two, Poppy's mother, Demona, was protective of her. She could hear her mother's voice everywhere she went. Watch out for branches, Poppy; or Don't forget to turn off the oven, Poppy; or Poppy's favorite: Don't trust strange men.      It wasn't that Poppy hated her mother; in fact, she was grateful for the close relationship they had. Demona had raised Poppy by herself, and instilled that their mother/daughter relationship was built on trust, love, and honesty. Demona knew Poppy's every decision before she even made it, and she could read her daughter like an open book. Poppy deeply respected her mother's strength and wisdom, and wouldn't have traded their relationship for anything other than what it was. She only wished that she was given more opportunities to show her mother how responsible and trustworthy she could be.      After putting on her blouse and comfortable old jeans, she made her way into the kitchen. Her mother was dressed in her gardening outfit, for the weather was promising today and they had to prepare for the harvest in a couple weeks. She was radiant; her cheeks were flushed a light pink and her green eyes glowed with admiration when she looked at her daughter.      "You awoke right on schedule today, love," her mother remarked, smiling, as she came over to kiss her daughter's forehead.      Poppy smiled back at her mother and gestured towards the bag at the door. "Well, it is market day today and I am so excited to go into town and see what they have for sale," she breathed.     Her mother studied her for a moment, before replying, "Of course, my sweet. Do you want anything to eat before you go?"     Poppy shook her head no, and her mother's face became unreadable as she continued, "Ok darling. Please be careful; do not stray from the town; do not speak to anyone suspicious-looking, especially strange men, and hurry home as soon as you can please. Oh, I do worry so much when you are away. Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?"     Poppy sighed and rolled her eyes, "Mother, I am twenty-two years old, I can handle going to the market. I will be safe, I promise. Trust me, please. I love you and I will be back later with our items." She side-stepped around her mom, planting a quick kiss on her cheek and grabbed the bag. She could hear her mother's goodbye as she shut the front door and she heaved a big sigh.      It was hard for her to imagine being able to live life freely; to come and go as one pleased. She felt a bit bitter as she thought about how protective her mother was, but quickly reminded herself it was because she loved her. She couldn't deny Demona's loving heart, and there was nothing malicious about her overbearing nature. She just simply worried a lot.     Poppy enjoyed taking the long route to town; through the overgrown brush past the neighboring houses. She liked to muse over what it would have been like had she lived closer to other people. Would she have grown up playing with other children her age? Would she have had friends? She supposed that those questions would never be answered, for her life was being spent living on the farm, and that was what fate had decided for her the day she was born.      Deep in her thoughts, Poppy didn't notice that she accidentally missed a turn, and she stopped in her tracks, taking in her surroundings. The houses here were spread out, but not like the acres of her farmland.  She was awestruck at the sights before her; each house had beautiful marble pillars in front of ornate front doors. These houses were magnificent, with an expansive front lawn and multiple stories within each home. She continued down the path slowly, imagining herself living in one of these homes.      She felt as if every home was just getting larger and more spread out, and she had to stop her jaw from dropping at the sight of some of them. As she neared the end of the road, she was about to turn back around when she glanced upwards. Sitting before her on top of the hill was a large dark house. The exterior was Victorian style, and surrounded in blacks and deep grays. Save for the occasional gold trim around areas, the house was exceptionally dark. It most definitely blended in at nighttime. Something was pulling her towards this house and although it was the black sheep of the block, she couldn't deny it was striking.      Her breathing stopped as she noticed a shadowed figure in the top window. It seemed to be facing her and she shivered as she swore it was staring right at her. Quickly, she turned around and started back the way she came. She felt dazed, and couldn't help wondering who lived in these houses. Why was the one at the end of the road opposite all the others?, she thought. And, much to her surprise, a little nagging voice in her mind also wondered, Who was that in the window?