It's like I was a captive begging to be freed, wanting to be released. There was almost no difference between being a convicted murderer locked up in jail and being, well, me. It wasn't like that but it might as well be.

Every step I took was under surveillance and I couldn't move without people breathing down my neck or without everyone's eyes on me. And almost like a prisoner, I was locked up and was deprived of the outside world - of reality - the only difference was my prison.

No, I wasn't behind chipped rusting bars and inside a stinky, narrow four-walled space that has molds all around - an excuse of a jail - without a single window, to atleast catch a glimpse of what the outside world looks like, or anything at all except a bunk and one's messed up thoughts.

Instead, my jail was this expensive-looking, chandelier-adorned high-ceiling, marble-floored, blinding white-themed, full of PSGs and CCTVs, too big for a family of two, house.

I know I should be grateful for this beautiful home instead of whining but that was just it.

When you have people watching your every move and telling you what to do that you can't be yourself anymore, that massive house would seem to close up in on you that you feel like you're suffocating and you couldn't breathe and you couldn't tell the difference between a filthy cell and your own house.

When people have high expectations on you that you have no choice but to fulfill those expectations and not your own dreams and wills and wishes; you felt like your hands were cuffed behind your back and you couldn't do anything but obey.

When people deprive you of the outside world, saying it's too dangerous for you, but it just made you feel like you're left in oblivion and like you're a life-time imprisonment sentenced-criminal and for a long, long time, you have had no one to talk to and even your feelings were locked up inside of you.

That was just it. When your house felt more of a jail than home.

**

Sophia gently knocked on her father's wide-open wooden office door just to inform him of her arrival. She saw him sitting infront of his laptop, typing away something Sophia didn't know - and honestly, cared - about before his father uttered a quiet "come in" without stopping his actions or even looking up from the screen.

Sophia walked in towards his father's direction, stopping infront of his desk, all the while she was wiping her clammy hands on her clothes, not caring if it was ruined because she was nervous.She didn't even know why she was nervous, she had done this a thousand of times before - and even got the same answer - but she was. This thing should be depended on her own will; she shouldn't need to ask her father about it, she was legal after all, but she also knew she was a different case. She would've been furious of that thought because really, she never signed up for this but because she was nervous, there was no time to be furious because she could only feel one emotion at a time or she'd go madder - if that was a word - than what she already was.

She cleared her throat before she spoke, "Dad," she calmed her heart a little bit, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Her father typed a few more before leaning his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his clasped hands and finally looking up at her, "What is it, darling?"

She fiddled with her hands, stalling a tad bit, "I'm gonna go shopping tomorrow." she stated.

Her father just furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why she felt the to tell him, "Do you need money? Have you lost your credit card?" Little did he know, she was about to ask him about it again, she just did a different approach this time.

"No, no," she shook her head, "It's just that..." she trailed off, dreading the arguement that she knew was about to happen.

"It's just that what?" her father asked, growing more impatient by the second. He didn't have all day, he still needed to finish more papers and he most certainly hated being stalled.

"Can I go shopping without a guard?" she blurted out.

Her father's creased brows furrowed even further as his confusion turned into realization when he realized it was one of those times. "Absolutely not."

"But, Dad-"

"Sophia, I've told you so many times that it's not safe for you to go out alone," he started moving his hand up to massage his temples because of the slight headache he was starting to have, "Don't be difficult; we've talked about this before."

And just like that, Sophia's nervousness diminished and turned into anger. Sure, she had done this before but that didn't mean she wasn't getting frustrated everytime her father told her no. She had done this so many times before but that didn't mean she was expecting him to say no everytime. She would only be out to shop for f*ck's sake; she didn't need to have four, five bulky robotic guys whose always on their walkie talkie and wouldn't even meet her eyes when they talk, hot on her trail everywhere; it was driving her insane.

"We've talked about it?" she scoffed, "More like you decided for me. I can make decisions for myself, Dad, I'm twenty one not ten! I'm not a freaking child!" she snapped.

"Lower your voice," her father warned sternly, "Have you thought of what people would say if they've heard the governor's daughter talking back to her father?"

She rolled her eyes because really, she didn't sign up for people to watch her be the governor's prim and proper daughter, "Like f*ck I care-"

"Language, Sophia!" he said through his teeth, "I did not raise you to talk like an uncivilized person."

All the etiquettes that she needed to remember - using the right spoon out of the ten others laid out on dinner table, for example - she had memorized by heart being the governor's daughter and all, yet still being reminded to her all the time was pulling on her last strings so without a thought she spoke what her mind was thinking, "Yeah, you didn't because you were never the one who raised me." but just one look on her father's pained face, she instantly regretted it because thar was freaking low.

Sophia's mother died when she was five and it was her and her father since then. Well, and a lot of different nannies through the years. Growing up, she was always with one nanny atleast because her father worked for the both of them. He wasn't always around but everytime he was, he'd spend time with her. She saw him working his as* off for her and to get to where he was now, that it was eating most of his time but he was trying, boy did he try to take care of her. Sophia appreciated it but it was always never enough. And she knew his father knew it, too.

"Sophia, I'm-"

She cut him off for she knew very well he was about to apologize again, something he had done so many times before, and hearing him do it again would just make her feel guiltier, "Just-just this once, Dad." she said defeatedly. She knew she would be denied but she just had to try one last time for the day.

"I'm sorry, darling." his father said, remorsefully. "I love you, you know that right?"

She sighed and nodded her head saying she understood, and she did. She understood very well.

She slowly dragged her feet towards the door with a heavy heart but before she could reach it, she glanced back at her father over her shoulder. She saw him looking down with a sad look on his face and Sophia's heart broke just by looking at him. So she did what she used to do and charged back to him and nuzzled her face on his shoulder just like when she was young and his father was home from work, "I love you, too, Daddy. I'm sorry."

She did. No matter how her situation angered her, she loved his father dearly.

But she didn't want any of this. She didn't want to suffer the consequence of his father's obligations. She wanted to live her life, not the governor's daughter's life. She didn't want to feel like she had eyes on her everywhere, waiting for her to f*ck something up. She didn't want to be restrained. She didn't want to hold herself down from doing something she wanted.

As much as she loved her father, she was afraid that this bit by bit snap she was having would eventually tick her to the edge of full break down of emotions that were bottling up inside her for a long time.

She was afraid this would urge her to her escape.