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Summary
Dean burst from the court house, gasping, clawing his stupid, ill-fitting dress shirt open, tearing off the tie and throwing it with no regard to where it landed. He’d be donating these horrible clothes right back to the Goodwill they’d come from, anyway.
He took halting steps down the walkway, stumbling at the edge where cement met dirt, dropping down. He didn't even bother to pick himself up as he sobbed on his hands and knees in the dirt of the flower bed, breathing freely for the first time in years. He had fought and clawed his way to freedom and now, now -
Alastair was going to prison.
Dean got away.
Dean got away.
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This is a little story I made based around the song Little Girl Gone by Chinchilla. It's about hope and trust and sweet beginnings.