The bass pounded through the stadium, ricocheting off the pillars and ribcages of the audience; the audience recited the words as every chord of the chorus echoed through their chests. Ecstasy drenched the air as the audience swayed to and fro with the time of the music. Cell phone lights sparkled like fireflies as everyone in the audience held them up for the last chorus.

A collective roar ripped through the audience as the final notes died down. There were shouts of joy from the casual lovers of the band whose main purpose of the night was to have a good time; the ride-or-die fans screamed the loudest, screaming with all the emotion they felt for the band as people— some of who loved them more than their own family members.

But her scream was different than the rest; her scream had a history. It was laced with the contagious adrenaline rush from the throng of people pressed up on either side of her; mingling with the pent up emotions she’d spent years suppressing. It made her throat burn, so she screamed louder.

In that scream she felt the sting of his hand meeting the side of her face before the wall found her other cheek. She felt rumble of her ‘96 Bug as it trudged along the highway away from his double edged caresses. She felt the crack in her heart widen as the paperwork that brought the end of the end was laid across the table.

But in that scream, she also felt her mother’s thin arms that held that crack together. She felt the tears of her hometown best friend landing on her bare shoulder when her bug finally halted in the driveway. She felt that morning when she woke up and for the first time in years she moved closer to the person in the bed next to her, and was met with a loving arm closing the gap between them.

And in the background of all of these moments was this song. It was the song she listened to alone, after he had fallen asleep and she felt safe for a few moments. It was the soundtrack of her freeing drive, pushing her mile after mile. And her hometown best friend pulled her off the couch to dance to it. It promised her during the dark days that there would be an end, and carried her every step through that promise.

Memory after memory clawed its way back to the surface; she felt the skeleton of the cage that once held her enclose, and then felt it crumble from the force of her freedom. Tears trickled and fell from the corners of her eyes, and she threw her hands into the air as she screamed again. She was free now. This song helped her escape to freedom, and her screams were her thank you note.

The crowd died down as the guitar player plucked the strings to the beginning of another number. It was a familiar one, but it held no meaning in her heart. Arms wrapped around her waist and a kiss was planted on her cheek. She smiled, and was reminded of her feeling of freedom; her fingers laced those that placed themselves on her waist, and her head leaned back to a comforting shoulder.

“This one’s my favorite,” he whispered in her ear, before softly singing along to the words, his breath warm as it mingled with her hair. She took a deep breath in, and allowed herself to relax; her high of emotions had faded, and she was left with a relieving feeling of content. They swayed in unison, him never moving his hands from her waist, and her never moving her hands from his.

This was freedom. This was happiness. This was where she belonged.