As a creative writer, I always have stories swirling through my head: characters' lives and where they go, what will happen to them in the end. The thing about that though is that in the midst of it all, my own story seems to be the only one I can't always see the path for. Where do I go... What is my story? When I was younger, I believed in great crafts of magic in this world. I believed in goblins and fairies and alternate lands just behind our point of view... But in learning more about those worlds within my own, I began to understand that maybe the magic of it all is the point of view.

So here is one of the greatest stories I have ever known, one that I have put on rerun in my mind on countless nights. It is a story that begins on the winding back roads of a little part of Tennessee lovingly referred to by its few residents as Winchester Springs. This, of course, was because it’s not quite in the little town of Winchester and not quite in the tiny town of Estil Springs. Thus unofficially Winchester Springs it was: just a stretch of twisting back roads pressed against the lake and surrounded by trees with a few humble homes here and there. This story is about how though growing up in such a town maybe ought to make you think otherwise, I truly believe that this place, may be one of the most sacred places on this earth. This is the story of what I hope it looks like when I get to Heaven.

You see, I know someone who grew up out there. She grew up barefoot running down these winding back roads, through her neighbors' yards and down to the lake, usually trailed by a couple of dogs and often enough one cat. Shifty the cat, the proud owner of one ear with a giant bite-chunk missing from it, and one tooth on the other side of his face that was always sticking out of his mouth, followed around this barefoot girl on adventures she made of everyday things. She’d go down to that lake and discover imaginary wonders of all kinds, from rocks shaped like dinosaurs or mushrooms, to the Loch Ness Monster, and strange birds in the mud. Her neighbors thought she was adorable and kids from the school bus thought she was strange because when she’d go about on these things, you could tell it was her for sure from a distance from the top hat she often wore. A top hat of all things: one she’d decorated with dinosaur stickers and, in big colorful letters, her name across the front.

Haley. Her name is Haley, and she is my very best friend. Growing up, we became something more like sisters as she filled my life with understanding. In the back roads of Winchester Springs, Haley taught me about fruit trees and the difference between tractors and lawn mowers (making fun of me for that one of course). We learned about the best ways to make tea and about lizards and where to go when family falls apart and our hearts break. Most of all, we shared our hopes, our dreams, our crazy plans. Huddled together on her bed, Shifty the cat with his one tooth sticking out would sit looking content as ever by our sides, and walnuts would fall from the trees above and clatter on the tin roof of her bedroom late at night like the occasional beat to our hours-long talks. One night, I remember, when we were probably about 15 and it was late spring, we were up all night as usual and Haley looked to me suddenly, the smirk appearing as it always did right before she announced a new scheme, and she said “Do you wanna do something?” And I, being the kid I was, of course said something along the lines of, “What with my life or like-?”

And she, being the kid she was, said, “No DOOFUS, like get out of here! We could go somewhere and mom would never even know, I’ll have Charlie come pick us up!”

So at 15 years old, at like 2:00 in the morning, this girl looked at me and essentially proposed that her dopey 17 year old boyfriend come get us in his loud, stupid truck to go god knows where without mom’s permission and without any hesitation.

So of course I was like, “Hell yeah, let’s do it,” and the first step in our plan was hatched. We were going to climb out of the window. Thankfully Haley lived in a one story house, so we were pretty confident, but as an unplanned hitch in this A+ idea, the window was not very big. So Haley decided she’d go first. She took her shoes, never even putting them on, and tossed them out the window before herself, so she’d "have ‘em once we’d escaped but wouldn’t have to bother with 'em while climbing out" apparently. Thankfully after some struggle, we both stuck the landing, finding the cool damp grass of freedom beneath our feet. The immediate feelings of sheer success and thrill of what we’d just done was indescribably glorious.

And then the dogs started barking.

We knew they’d wake her mom so without even a word to each other we both took off running away from her house, towards the edge of her property, towards the road. And just as the barking had started to sound like it was fading into the distance, right behind me I heard "SHIT" followed by an unpleasant thunk.

I turned around, still panting from the excitement and from being out of shape, to find that Haley had brilliantly found a hole in the ground with her foot. The absolute picture of grace and balance, ladies and gentlemen: my best friend. After hobbling back up in panic and laughter, we carried on, finding out weeks later when her ankle still hurt that she had actually fractured part of it (we told her mom she hurt it slipping out of the bathtub). Never minding the eminent danger we had just discovered in running through the wilderness of her yard, we kept on running and laughing until we reached the horizontal edge of where her lawn kissed the twisting back road.

The moment before we stepped out there, officially out of her mother’s beautifully gardened front yard of fruit trees and flowers, officially off into the great (known) unknown… I looked over at Haley, and I laughed hysterically realizing that this moment could have only been summed up somehow through a music montage. The immediate song to mind was this weird one we’d found on some mix CD from Wal-Mart we’d gotten in 7^th grade while trying to pick a song to do for the talent show. It was perfect. There couldn't have been a more perfect song because it was the kind of song that you don't know you know until it's on some obscure radio station randomly. The one whose title we didn't know, just the words that said something along the lines of, “running just as fast as we can, holding onto each other’s hands. Trying to get away into the night then we hold each other close and then we tumbled to the ground and then you say DUN NA NA NAAA, I think we’re alone now.”

So hand in hand we took that step away from home, singing.

And that was it. We were free. Life was so different in that moment; we had the whole world before us. So running down the road, singing and skipping and laughing with each other in the middle of the night, we made our way to the little clearing before the lake that was our rendezvous point with Charlie, who was still on his way to pick us up.

Just as we were almost there, in the distance we saw approaching headlights and we knew it wasn’t Charlie’s truck because we couldn’t hear it coming. “DUCK AND COVER” Haley screamed, and we dove into the high grass of the clearing, hoping to god whatever car was passing wasn’t a cop and wasn’t going see the shaking of the grass from our ridiculous amounts of laughter we were trying to stifle by holding our breath. As it finally moved past, we bust out into more laughter and I laid there in the grass to look up at the sky. It was the most dazzling, dark and starry night I had ever seen. Literally everywhere there were lights above piercing through the darkness, like in pictures, like lyrics, like a "back-lit canopy with holes punched in it." And it was so beautiful. I remember that moment so clearly, it stays in my mind every day.

I remember laying in that grass with those beautiful stars above, and I looked beside me and there was my favorite person in the whole world, still giggling with her deep dimples accentuated in the darkness. And I remember thinking, "God, I hope this is what it looks like when I get to Heaven."

Just then in the distance we could hear Charlie’s rattling truck. He stopped and hopped out, cigarette hanging from his lips and said, “what’re y’all down in the dirt fer?” in his very Charlie way. Then we, in a very Winchester Springs way, made our escape to Waffle House where we drank way too much coffee and made that magical night last as best we could.

The thing is, I don’t really remember climbing back in the window.

There were so many nights before and after. Nights of being twelve years old, eating too much ice cream and coloring on our toes to make little toe print marks all over her bedroom wall… Nights of being 17 and making really loud jokes during 3D movies and going to Wal Mart for fun at odd hours. Adventures with Haley taught me more about life than I ever really understood on those days and nights with her. Not always in tangible ways, or ways that we even have words for... But always, for the rest of my life, in ways that I will never be able to forget. They are the stories I will tell to my children. The opportunities I will take to share with everyone who will let me, about the bravest girl I have ever known: a girl who grew up barefoot on the back roads of Winchester Springs, who made a habit of climbing out of windows. She gave me the most amazing memories and stories from even just that one night when the stars were the brightest they’ve ever been and she was there and life was all around.

And I truly hope that that is what it looked like when she got to Heaven.