Mud, Wind and the Key

deathShe was grinding her mind with doubt. She was torturing herself. She had a different reality. She hated that, but the reality didn’t care. It pushed her. It belittled her. It made her heavy and not enough. It made her crush her own achievements. It made her ordinary, but ordinarily sad.
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She was trying to clean the rust in her brain. She was trying so hard to remove it, that it broke her strength. It broke her vitality and presence of mind to pursue something daring. And it was a logical step to take now that she had cleared her brain. But she was exhausted, she was frustrated and lost.
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She was running, fast and breathless at times. She was running looking back, looking up and down. She was running frenetically and without purpose. She just had to run hard without pausing. She would do it until her heart stopped.
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She was suffocating in the cleanest of airs, in the safest of places. She dug a hole in her heart so unaesthetic that would scar anyone trying to look through. She had to cover it.
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She stared inside of her. She looked hard even when she wanted to look away. She didn’t blink, she endured.
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She looked outside, got scared, wanted to run but there was no escape. So she endured.
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She looked at others, she got nervous, uncomfortable and furious so she wanted to break out. There was no door out. So she had to endure.
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She looked for a bit of soul, she looked for hope, but they were locked. She couldn’t find the key. So she waited. She looked at the vault, helpless. But she endured.
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One day, there were no words, no stories, no laughter and life. The wind was cutting, chocked everything and covered all traces of her.
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She crawled away, shaking like a leaf, no eyes to see, no warmth to strengthen her, but still she was crawling slowly and steadily. This shadow of what was left of her seemed determined, she was going somewhere, but where?
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Her fist was clenching hard. She was holding something. Her knees were bleeding, all clothes were ripped and mud was coming from her eyes, but she kept going.
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She didn’t stop even when her fist untightened for a split second, she clenched it hard again, and kept moving forward. In that spare second, what did the hand reveal?
The key.