This is Sarah. She lives in a small town in Nebraska. Everyone knows everything about every person in every way. It’s like one great big family, and she’s the ugly stepsister.
The first thing that strikes you about Sarah Hall is her hair. Her vibrant red locks stand out against the vast horizon of corn stalks and sugar beat fields, and of course the straight laced folks who live there. She along with her hair both display an artistic aura that envelopes people the with the notion she is an artist. This notion indeed is correct. Slowly developed over the years she has created this specific ambience to show people who she truly is. Which is a far stretch from the common around those parts.
This is a story about how small towns can hold somebody back and exhaust them of their dreams. Dreams that they have had for as long as they could pick up a pencil. Dreams that seem so close to achieving but as far away as they could possibly be. Dreams that are so attainable but completely unheard of in a 200 hundred mile radius around this place. Dreams that grab you by the soul and hold on tight so that you never let go.
So, who is Sarah Hall? She is the person who takes all the art classes in high school because there’s nowhere else to learn. She is the person who no matter how many people try to tell her she “can’t make it in this town” knows she can, and she will. She is the person who has a hard time making friends because few people can relate to her because few people do. She is the mouse in the heard of elephants known as her family. She is a stranger in her own hometown.
It is 3:00 AM Tuesday morning, most people tucked and warm in bed dreaming of blissful thoughts and happy memories. Not Sarah Hall, she’s sitting on the edge of her bed staring at a stark white canvas laid directly in the middle of the floor. Mulling the hundreds upon thousands of possible ideas for her latest and greatest masterpiece. This is an average night in her world. Pondering the possibilities of the next piece. Thinking and staring at a single spot on the canvas long and hard enough it feels as though it may burn. But, that’s what it means for her to love something. To completely let it destroy her emotionally until the final product is complete.
But, the interesting thing is, Sarah will miss this place, this town, the people, and the comfort. She will miss it more than anyone will ever know. She was born just up the street, raised in the same house her entire life, she has those nearest and dearest to her resting in the cemetery just across town. The several opportunities she never had when she lived there will be but the pebbles in the road of her journey. This town will live inside of her forever and frankly that is the way she would want it to be.
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