Freedom Rhyme Novels & Stories

"I'm so jealous of you. You shot your shot when the time was right. You didn't care about what everyone else would say. You just got with the woman you wanted to be with because you wanted to." "Our situations are quite different." Although Maisie was once his cousin-in-law, they weren't related by blood. Waylon said, "Just you wait. Maybe I'll risk it all one day. No one will be able to tell me what to do once I'm out of this uniform." "You're still part of the Farell family even if you're out of that uniform." He could take off the uniform, but he would forever be part of the Farell family. The Farells would never allow him to bring shame to the family name.

"It feels like I can breathe. Like I can be myself. Like I don't have to pretend anymore." The fire crackled softly. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was steady and strong, a rhythm I had come to know by heart. Rex's hand traced patterns on my back. "What do you know now that you didn't know before?" I thought about it, letting the words settle. "I know that freedom isn't about being alone. It's about being with people who let you be yourself." He kissed the top of my head. "What else?"

Then, I turned off my phone and closed my eyes. I didn't sleep well that night. The cramping was still there, and my mind drifted through a series of fractured dreams. But when I finally came to, I felt more clearheaded than I had in a long time. The sky was just starting to lighten when we landed in Norwell. A colleague from the branch was waiting at the arrivals exit. He took my bag from me and asked whether I'd caught a rough flight. I smiled and said, "It was alright." I didn't bother elaborating.

Lawson's anger from today burst out almost completely at that moment. Judy's shoulders trembled. She lowered her head, tears filling her eyes. Her voice shook as she said, "But she doesn't even care about being a Luna! Why can't you give Samson and me a place where we can belong? She won't come back!" Lawson raised his hand, ready to slap her, and he stopped only when Samson hugged him. Lawson finally said, "She'll come back. She'll never give up. I gave you so much money, not so you could replace her. Live your own life."

For herself. For freedom.

I finished the letter. Freedom is not the absence of connection - you said that, and I have been understanding it better as each month passes. I had always thought freedom meant independence from need. I now understand it means the presence of genuine choice, and that genuine choice requires that the people around you are not quietly engineering the cost of the alternatives.

��𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

The Heart glowed between them, brighter than ever. And across creation, from the smallest atom to the oldest god, the new rhythm whispered— > thrum … thrum … thrum … The sound of freedom. The sound of remembrance. The sound of love reborn. And the universe sang. ---

Was born rich or poor I was born free In the world People in power Bring back rules Why catching speed A way to be unwept Let my heart decide What's stagnant What's at unrest I do not occupy speed I do not acknowledge the light I am free in the dark world Freedom is my light Do not stop me Nor enable me to flight I am free to choose my speed Likewise Like revised I don't encounter dust Feet are not of worth to you But for me It's freedom To take me Where rules fail, too I am free to acknowledge Choice is within me I don't say I didn't do To achieve is to be true I am not a slave to success On which scale You compare me With the other I am free in the world I don't blow dust On anyone's face

"Where are you? I'll send the driver to pick you up." I did not reply. Another message arrived. "Stop being stubborn. You know I can't live without you." I stared at the words and almost laughed. She could not live without me the same way she could not live without the furniture in her house or the pillow on her bed. That was habit. Not love. Real love was respect. Real love meant letting someone become who they were meant to be. It was not breaking their wings, locking them in a cage, and demanding gratitude for it.