I clutch the rough stones tightly, an insistent wind tugging at my dress. The dress is completely impractical for climbing down the side of a tower in the middle of the night, but it was the best that my limited wardrobe could supply.
     For my entire life I have been told that I should never try escaping the tower that is both my home and my prison. Instead, I am supposed to wait demurely for my handsome prince to rescue me. I have been assured that he will come, but unfortunately for my absent prince, patience has never been a virtue of mine. After seventeen years of listening to the same story I got sick of waiting. However, clinging to the outside of the tower with trembling hands, I can’t help but think they may have been right, just a little bit.
     Fog curls all around, as though fingers are grasping at me, trying to pluck me from the relative safety of the wall. The stone I am gripping with my bare toes is beginning to crumble at the edge. I am well aware that I have rested long enough. But somewhere in the dark, damp fog I lost all the fiery passion that drove me to begin this long descent.
     It would help if I could see the ground; if I knew how far I have left to go. However, with both the night and fog working against me, there is nothing to see but hazy grey beneath my feet. Looking up, I can still spy my window, a square of cheerful orange light cutting a chink in the darkness. I am caught in a peculiar half-world, between the dark fog below and the bright light above. Although the light from my window is inviting, I know that my arms are too tired to attempt an upwards climb.
     I begin my slow descent once more, the actions becoming mechanical, although increasingly painful. Suddenly, as I reach my right foot down it touches something new. That something is cold and slightly damp, as though the fog has condensed beneath me.
     That something is the ground.
     I prod the unfamiliar surface with my toes before dropping from the tower with a sigh of relief. The fog has lifted slightly, and I can see the vague shadows of trees just a few feet away. Their blurred forms stand in contrast to the solid surface of the tower wall, which I have successfully navigated.
     For the first time in my life I can feel cool grass beneath my feet. I pluck a green shoot and hold it to my nose, breathing in its fresh scent, full of life and the endless possibilities of a wide open world with no walls ensnaring me.