Katherine winced.

The wooden door did little to block out the sound of her mother's shrill voice, yelling into the phone. Lately this had gone on every day, lasting hours. How could everyone think she was so calm and sweet? They would drop to their knees in fear if they heard the threats her mother shrieked.

Katherine slid to the ground, deciding to stay. As much as she hated eavesdropping, there was little else to do. The house was spotless and her homework done. She had no television or internet access, no new books brought by her best friends. All of it would be monitored, anyway.

A sigh escaped her, unfortunately just in time for a break in her mother's side of the conversation. She heard the click-click of heels against the tile, and the door slammed open. Her mother, dressed in a slimming green designer dress and black heels, glared down at Katherine. Her graying copper hair was messy in an unraveled bun. Katherine knew her mother raked her hands through her hair when she was angry.

"Katherine Penelope. How dare you listen in on my conversation!"

Katherine looked to the side, avoiding her mother's glower. "Not like there's anything better to do. You're basically my only company. Maybe if you let me go out—"

"You know I can't do that. Go to your room, young lady."

Katherine rolled her eyes and did as she was told.

It really wasn't that big of a deal. And her room definitely wasn't a punishment, but an escape from the constant annoyance that was her mother. An entire wall was a window, looking out at the forest. The other walls were covered in art, from Van Gough's Starry Night to black and white photography of soda cans. She was allowed a music system, but the radio was fuzzy, and she never could get anything through.

Katherine adored music. She could never play, but it didn't matter—hearing it was enough. Classical music transported her soul to new, brighter places, free of worry and heartache. The violin, her favorite, played on the strings of her heart. Every note had a specific color, emitting lightening fast rainbows when played fast, and calm, slow rivers of color when slow. Words were never enough to express how she felt.

The rest of her room showed some of who she was, with her mother's permission, of course. Katherine loved flowers, and spread them artfully around her room. A sunflower on her desk, lavender beside her bed, tiger-lilies and daisies and roses and peonies and every flower she could obtain amazed her senses. The scent could knock over some people, but it was heaven to her.

She, like her mother, owned designer clothing, but her own style. Long skirts and colorful dresses filled her closet to the brim. She only had a couple pairs of pants, one jeans and the other billowy and soft. She didn't like night clothing; she secretly slept in the nude. Her mother would die if she knew, but Katherine loved letting her body breathe, meeting the satin sheets.

Living away from society was difficult and boring, to say the least.

She could go outside and garden or explore the woods or swim in the ocean nearby. Her friends came over sometimes, giving her solace from loneliness and a peace of mind. And sadly she would listen to her friends' stories of school and guys and "normal" problems. They sympathized with Katherine and conspired to kidnap her someday. Always hatching up plans that never came to be.

Speaking of guys, the only ones she came in contact with were from books. Well, and her cousin Henry. He brought a comedic air to the stuffy house, teasing and making her laugh until her sides nearly burst. But he hadn't been around in a couple months.

Katherine flopped on her bed, staring at her ceiling marked with all the stars and constellations. When would she ever be free? She loved her mother, but oh how she wanted to explore the world and meet new people. She'd lived in the same house since she was born, and seen the same people. She knew it was probably her father whom her mother constantly yelled at, but she'd only met him once, when she was little.

She remembered distant blue eyes and blonde hair, and from the pictures she sometimes saw her mother gazing at, he was very handsome. She longed to know more about him, but was too afraid to ask. Her mother hated the man, or seemed to. Though she always berated him, there were those tender moments.

As she let her mind wander, it returned to the question she asked, the only one that really mattered: Why was her mother so overprotective, never allowing Katherine to leave? What was so bad out there?

From books and stories from Henry and her best friends, the world was stressful but a whirlwind of fun. How could she know if she was strong if she never got to test it out? She knew she would survive, that the universe would allow no harm to come to her. She had never done anyone wrong, mostly always obeyed. Karma would give her happiness.

And yet, there she lay, trapped in her own home.

With a woman she loved more than anyone and a woman who irritated her more than anything.