Harbor opened the front door and stepped outside.

It was the first time Harbor had gone out alone, without her father or mother to protect her.

She was like a free bird, flying wherever she wished.

She was only four, but Harbor didn't care.

As she stumbled through the mud, she thought, I'm free. Free from Mommy, free from Daddy. Free from caring. I'm just free!

Harbor had her back turned to the world, and nobody could stop her!

She felt powerful watching the summer gold leaves sway to the muddy ground, crunching under her walking feet.

The trees are afraid of me, she thought as a smile crept up on her rosy face. They'd give me everything they've got rather than disappoint me and get me very angry.

The gray skies made Harbor even more excited.

The wind howled around her as she stepped further and further away from her cozy, warm house.

But she wasn't nearly as cold as a child younger than her would be.

Besides, she had on her fluffy, brown jacket, and she was too powerful.

She stuck out her chin and squared her shoulders.

The wind didn't need to be shown twice who the boss was.

It slowed to a chilly breeze, instead.

NOW who's in charge? Harbor thought.

But she was far from humanity. She could yell- louder than an avalanche's rumble.

"NOW WHO'S IN CHARGE?" Harbor screamed.

The breeze answered, You are in charge, Harbor.

Rain began to sprinkle as Harbor held her head up high.

She acted like a queen- walked with confidence, smile was wide and important, shiny chestnut-like eyes sparkling amidst the rain.

Then she stopped.

Harbor's reign was over as soon as she saw the gates to the old cemetery- black, rusty, fancy, and decorated with autumn leaves. Should I open the gates?

Harbor wanted to go back home, but she wouldn't dare look back.

I want to go back to Mommy and Daddy, she thought helplessly.

But her curiosity was too powerful- more powerful than Harbor herself.

Her tiny hands pushed open the gates and her feet walked her inside the cemetery. Her little, pink boots splashed in puddles as rain poured.

Harbor examined a gravestone: Katrina Davidson, 1999-2003.

Harbor saw the other side of the cemetery, where another pair of large gates were.

She ran across, pulled them open, and ran out to the dirt path.

The rain began to stop, and Harbor jumped on a log and yelled,"I'm not scared!"

She ran across the log and felt free again!

She hopped off the log, her feet thumping the ground from impact.

She kept running, as if there was no end of the world.

The sky became a warm blue, but it was still cold outside.

Then it happened.

Harbor saw the most beautiful oak tree she had ever seen- thick, brown trunk, minuscule, orange leaves.

The branches were long and had many leaves on each, and in the summer, the crown of the tree would provide wonderful shade.

"You're beautiful," murmured Harbor in awe.

She slowly walked towards the tree, hand out as if she wanted to shake a hand.

Harbor touched the bark- rough, just as she had expected. She took away her hand calmly and she crouched at its base and looked at its large crown.

Harbor began to smile again.

"You're beautiful," she repeated. Then she added,"I'll come back tomorrow. Mommy and Daddy must be worried sick."

She went all the way back- through the cemetery, out onto the muddy path.

When she got home, her parents were bustling all over the place- cooking dinner, cleaning up, having friendly conversations.

"I'm home," Harbor shouted, slamming the green, wooden door behind her.

Her mother whipped her head around to see her daughter.

She had a red face from cooking at the stove.

"Harbor!"

Mrs. Bronze flung herself at Harbor and picked her up, hugging her, stroking Harbor's blonde hair.

"Where were you?" asked Mrs. Bronze.

"That's my secret," giggled Harbor.

"Come on, hon, it's suppertime," Mrs. Bronze said, smiling and leading Harbor to the table happily.

After some delicious chicken noodle soup and a peanut butter cookie, Harbor went to her room and looked out the window.

Outside was a small bird, chirruping in the drizzle.

***********

Several years passed. Harbor was now eleven years old.

She had loved catching fireflies in the summer and making daisy chains in the spring, but now it was autumn- her favorite time of year.

She had visited the old tree every day, month, and year because she had told the mighty oak that she would visit it every day. And Harbor never broke promises.

But one day, something changed.

Harbor was walking through the cemetery- which was called Grand Cemetery- yet again.

But after she read the gravestone of Katrina Davidson, the girl who passed away when she was four, a mist slowly trailed behind Harbor.

Harbor kept going. She hadn't noticed the mist yet.

She casually walked over to her oak tree.

Suddenly, Harbor looked at the back of her feet.

And the mist was there.

Freaked out, Harbor ran, thinking she could get away from the fog trailing behind her.

But it went at the same speed as her, as if it was sewn onto her feet!

Finally, Harbor,panting like a dog, had reached the oak tree. She also had felt like she lost the mist. Have I?

Smiling weakly, she said,"Take that."

She climbed up the tree until she found her special spot. She leaned back, opened her ivory book, and read.

***********

Harbor was late for supper... again!

Mom is gonna KILL me, she thought while running. She quickly blew a kiss to her father's tombstone (her father had died two months back and her mother was very grief-stricken) and kept running.

Her dog, Snickerdoodle, ran after her.

It had snowed a few days ago, so the mud trail was covered with snow, but the small area with the oak tree?

All that snow had melted.

She ran and ran, Snickerdoodle darting after her.

Harbor opened the front door, let her dog in, and slid the way a batter would toward home plate.

Her mother was at the door, staring at Harbor.