Molly has written a fictional short story about living with a disability.

This story is part of YDAS' project to increase the voices of disabled young people during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Molly's Short Story

I stood in the same garden I had so often stood in before. My feet were on the dew-soaked grass, my bare skin caressing a little flower that had just finished blooming. I touched each petal, thinking how delicate, oh so delicate they were.

The sensations of the flower and the grass beneath my feet was overwhelming, but so comforting at the same time. My toes wriggled around in the grass as a laugh escaped my lips. I was no longer confined in a monotonous, cruel and belittling life. I was free, and had only myself to thank for it. And thank myself I did.

I walked around the garden for my leisure, leisure I had never had before. This simple task of allowing myself to control what I did instead of someone else controlling me was foreign to my beaten mind. It was confusing having to control what I did; I was so used to having decisions made for me, but I knew it was right, and I knew I was happy.

I kneeled down beside a black rose and slowly leaned down to smell its beautiful fragrance. It was enchanting, like something out of a gothic novel. Its presence made me happy, made me feel much less alone. As the rays of the sun shone down through the trees they covered me in warmth.

My haunted past lay fresh in my mind, but as I lay down I embraced the undeniable fact: I was safe, I was happy, I was free.