I’m outside.

I’m still on the grounds, the perimeter visible from here, a sight I’ve never seen. They call this our home, this illusion of life. The Gardenia House was one of many, that was the legend. Other Houses, other maidens. Others like us. Of course there are no facts, no proof. But I need to believe as much as all my maiden-sisters. It’s all we have. We are isolated here, alone from the world. They teach us of this world only to tell us why we are not ready to join it. It’s evils and temptations. We need strong “characters”.

All trees and grass, and the House, with only a few lights on the bottom floors. Getting out had taken planning in absurdly small increments of time. It was discouraging, harder than all of the study and chores put together in sheer frustration alone. I needed those myths to keep going. I have always wanted this, to be outside. We all have, some only secretly. But no one has ever done it. I’m the first. The penalty for discussing life beyond the House is severe, and mysterious.

I can’t stop thinking of Sarah, I miss her fiercely. Thinking about the broken lock on the refuse door. Remembering Sarah’s voice saying that it probably led nowhere, but let’s go see. The corridor, the room that was hidden behind a false wall led to the unguarded window. We found it, carefully timing our forays away from the kitchen in turns, lest we get caught.

I believe the House Mothers know nothing of this.

We have been here since our fourth year. This has always been our life, this beautiful gilded cage without bars. It is not exactly a secret, but it is not discussed and never challenged. Never. Sarah’s gift was her downfall. Sarah was too chatty and cheery for her own good. “I remember a woman,” Sarah once whispered to me, “With long hair like mine, red and gold and cascading curls like a waterfall over her shoulders. She looks like me, the same eyes...” And then a secret grin, shared under veil of eyelashes and hair.

But Sarah became careless. It only took once. Sarah was taken away as we all slept. Her absence was explained in that cold detached way the Mothers spoke to us; so unlike the lithium like-cadence they spoke always. “Sarah has broken the rules.” We were not to follow her example. No more was ever said.

The House Mothers encourage responsibility and dedication, and we are free within the House, the courtyard and gardens to attend our duties, our studies, and to our artistic talents. All under careful supervision. We are free to plan our schedules around our chores, and to share and swap responsibilities. While they watch our every interaction, our every move. “All of this freedom,” they tell us, “Will teach you to lead the younger maidens in our footsteps.” “Independent thinkers you will be” they say. “An uncanny intuitive interaction with others,” as if this life is normal, to be hidden and separate.

I waited a long time before I made my move.

And now I’m here. I almost expect to be paralyzed with fear, but adrenaline courses through my body. The chill in the early dawn seems not to touch me, even in my nightgown. This is it. My every-night dream realized.

So now I could run, to try to flee the House perimeter before I’m discovered. And there is little time; I have the key to the kitchen because I am to teach the younger maidens how to prepare the break fast for the entire house. No small task, and the Kitchen Mother would be looking for me soon. And where would I go? What lies beyond the House is a mystery. The Mothers only can come and go. Some of the younger ones tell us the outside is as we learn in our studies, that they too were maidens here and understand our curiosity. But always cautioning us to never break the rules. I think they try to make it easier for us, but it only drives the curiosity deeper, these snippets of a world denied.

I look back down towards the house. There is no change, save in the sky, warning me of the time that has elapsed. I savor the breeze; it seems better up here, cradled by the tree branches and rocks. My secret new friends. The air up here is sweet and fragrant from the flowergarden below. And to simply drink in the sights from this height. Not a window, but my own personal place in the heavens.

Every night I claim this piece of sky. This rebellion is not even imagined by the others. I did it for Sarah. Sarah was the brave one. She should be here now, her instead of me.

I have to go back now. I cannot be discovered outside the common area. I cannot risk not being able to come back tomorrow, and the next night, and the night after that.

But to leave is unthinkable; no one has ever defied them.

I am the first.