The 5 Steps To Freedom

Chapter title c-c-c-combo breaker!

SargantEpsilon: 'Bows'

Dominos-pizza: Don't wait any longer!

Frank15: There you strike a curious concept. Because Margaret wasn't some run-of-the-mill character I created for this purpose, she's going to be featured as a new contestant in 1 of my upcoming stories. Shameless advertising aside, I imagine their relationship to be a little like a shark and a terrified remora, that's all I can say right now.

NerdyNightStocker: You strike a good point there, but in Samantha's defense, she was 1-upped by her sister after being dominated her whole life and that has to be some justification for Samantha's actions.

So, now that we've reached the final chapter. There's 1 last thing I ask from you besides your attention. If you plan on reviewing, please tell me what I did good, what I did wrong, and what you'd have done different both writing and story wise. And stay realistic! Don't suck up because you're dealing with the likes of a god here!

Alright just scrap that god part and you'll understand.

Still rated T just because the other chaps are.

Chapter 5: Epilogue

Today is the day I wouldn't have expected to look forward to. The day of my release.

I'm sitting in my cell, waiting for the wardens to come pick me up. I'm nervous, nervous because I don't know who's waiting outside of the gates and nervous because Samantha isn't around, in fact, she isn't even in Canada at the moment. She went on holiday to Australia with her boyfriend. She didn't say who he was but she couldn't stop gushing about his way with words, his green eyes and light brown hair. I have a suspicion, but honestly, I don't want to know if that suspicion is correct or not. [1]

I don't know if I ever get a boyfriend, or whatever you're supposed to call them for someone my age. I'm not expecting to have one not just because of my criminal record attracting the wrong kind of people, but I also never made any work of it because I felt like I was too smart to enjoy the concept of love, as it are in reality no more than hormones instead of some otherworldly feeling. Despite that I'd get a little sad sometimes when I see a happy couple and the I'd wish I wasn't so smart and could just enjoy life through a simpler point of view.

Returning from trailing off... Of course I was upset when Samantha told me that she'd be away during this day, but she said that it was part of the therapy that I had to leave this prison by myself. I'm not sure if she was telling the truth or that she just used it as an excuse, but either way, maybe she's right. I shouldn't want her to hold my hand through everything. Despite that, Samantha was so nice to leave me a set of clothes for today, which I'm already wearing, as I had outgrown my last outfit before I was bound to wearing prison jumpsuits.

I tried reading 1 of the books from the prison library to quell my anxiety, but it was incredibly hard, I need glasses to read, despite that, I tried reading a few books the past month despite the risk of further damaging my eyes.

After I realized reading didn't help to calm me down, I laid it down beside me and stood up from my bed. I looked into the mirror above my sink. I had put back my hair in a bun for the first time in eons, while I was here, I couldn't possibly care less about how I looked. There were weeks where I'd look messy and reek horribly too. My mother would often worry about that I didn't care for myself well enough when she was visiting, but I was in prison, if you appeared prim and proper, you'd stand out and become a target. Other than that, I regularly just didn't feel like keeping myself clean and tidy. But since a few days, I've regained the desire to look representative again. I take another look in the mirror and come to the conclusion that I perhaps should do my hair in a low bun instead.

Then I heard someone unlock the door, it was time.

I looked around my cell 1 last time before I walked out of it and let the wardens escort me away.

Half an hour later, I was on my way to the main gate after I signed my release papers and a stern speech from the principal.

At this point I was so agitated that I legs were shaking. Who was waiting for me on the other end of the main gate? No one? Everyone? Or any amount in between? I gulped and sweated as a guard opened the small door and lets me through. I closed my eyes until the door behind has been shut and locked.

Standing outside of the prison, I could feel the cold December wind blowing into my face. I expected a lot of cameras taking pictures, but I hear nothing except for the wind. I open my eyes and see only 2 figures standing next to a familiar car on the other end of the parking lot, namely my parents. I look strikingly like my mom, maybe because the genes in my mother's family are dominant but maybe also because she always wears her hair in a bun too. My father…I think that my father looks a bit like the man who is credited as the inventor of the satellite. I have very few facial traits from him. And to be honest, I'm pretty content with that. My brother Robert is not present, which hurts me a little. I wanted to apologize on the spot.

I lightly tugged my pale yellow winter coat before I folded my hands together and laid on my stomach as I slowly walked towards my parents, trying not to slip over the thin layer of snow on the parking lot. Even though the anxiety of being hogged by paparazzi has obviously faded away, I was still scared about what they would think of me. Nonetheless, I could force a small smile to appear as I walked towards them. However, as I stand in front of them, my smile quickly faded, shame and sadness took over and I began to cry.

''I'm so sorry!'' I sobbed, covering up my eyes and looking away. Mom embraced and pulled me close to her, something I didn't expect.

''It's okay. Everyone makes mistakes. So did we.'' She soothingly whispered as she ran a hand through my hair, which comforted me ever since I was a toddler.

''That's not true! You only provided for me! I went overboard to prove my self-centered point! And with that I dragged your reputation as caring parents through the dirt!'' I responded.

''That'll pass over.'' Mom assuringly whispered as she softly buried her mouth into my hair.

''But-''

''Ssh.'' My mom silenced me as I tried to reason. Maybe she's right, we shouldn't talk right now, the more I say the more I sadden myself.

''Now, let's go home before we catch a common cold and becomes a deadly pneumonia!'' My mom jokingly said after some seconds. I can't help but snicker, her intelligent humor always cheers me up. My father holds the door open for me and I get in the car. I stare out of the window, the sun is slowly breaking through the clouds, which is once more a accurate reflection of my mood. I should look at the sky more often.

Some months later, I was sitting on a bench in a park covered in a unusually thick layer of February snow.

Currently, the therapy focuses on removing my desire for revenge, and I'm making ample progress. On Samantha's advice, I had taken a dog, a Schnauzer from the kennel named Mop, saying that it benefits my therapy. But other than the therapeutic ends of having a dog, I realized that having a dog just as a companion suits me. I come outside more often, which I consider a small benefit as well as I hardly left my room when I was a teenager, and when I did, I headed straight to the library.

She also advised me to get some hobbies that have nothing to do with my current interests. I was surprised to hear that Samantha was a member of the local gun club, though we both agreed that I shouldn't try that out as the chances are simply too high that someday something will go awfully wrong. I'm still working on that.

I'm not going to look for an education until it's spring, I'm enjoying my inner peace too much to get stressed about things like that right now. I leaned back and sighed in relief.

Life is good.

I looked at Mop digging through the thick layer of snow. It amused me to see such a small dog taking on what looks like to be an impossible task. I stared into the distance and I spotted a dog I believe was a Belgian shepherd, nothing special about that. I gasped loudly though when I saw who held the dog's leash.

Max. [2]

My anger boils up as I see him strolling over the path, still having that quirky frown and smug evil smile etched on his face. I stood up with clenched fists. He mentally pushed me over the edge landing me 7 years in jail and he disturbed my future. I looked around, there's no one nearby, I'm going to settle this, no witnesses! I wanted to stomp towards him until I was interrupted by a single bark from Mop (His head covered in snow). I looked down at him and saw that he had taken his leash off the bench and had laid it down in front of my feet. Happily wiggling its tail, he had no idea how angry I was…

Or had he?

For some reason, I put the leash around Mop's collar before I glared back at Max, slowly disappearing out of sight. I sigh miserably before I begin walking away from him, being closely followed by Mop. As we walked, I feel my fury fading. How did I oppress the urge to walk up to Max and do unmentionable things? I thought about that as we slowly strolled through the park.

Perhaps…Perhaps I didn't do anything just because of the therapy, but Mop made me consider that I'm happier with my current life than I would be with my life if I won Pahkitew Island, despite my 7 year prison term. I'm being helped to be at peace with my demons, I'm valuing the smaller things much more than I was back then and I don't suffer under the stress of peer pressure at all. In fact, I found the concept where the turn of events led me to becoming some sort of super professor who devotes her entire life to science and teaching seems incredibly…Stuffy lately. I have the feeling that I've only began to truly balance between what I want and what I can since I'm out of prison, and that tranquil balance is worth a lot to me. I bend down and picked Mop up to cuddle him. Mop did knew how angry I was, and he knew just the way to tell me that that was unjustified! Dogs are so much smarter than many think.

I put Mop back on the ground and I realize that maybe, just maybe, I should be a bit thankful to Max too for putting my life on the track I didn't know would work out the best for me.

The main problem with this story? It's too short!

[1] Can you guess who it is? Chris it is not (Hint hint)!

[2] A subtle reference to Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. You get it? Max, BELGIAN shepherd, go figure out that joke.

So, there. My first completed story 'Confetti and a party horn'!

I'm already working on a different story featuring Topher years after Pahkitew Island, ambitiously trying to become a major figure in Canada's TV world, at any costs. Do you like this concept? Any tips or suggestions on the matter? PM me! I love to receive them!

I hoped you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing and planning it, and you'll hear from me soon!

Saw Boliniz (Which is, as far as I am informed, Kazakh for goodbye),

L.W.