Mouth dry I cinched shut my duffle, slinging it over my shoulder as I stood. Heart hammering in my chest I listened, half expecting that the man I'd been forced to call Father would burst through the already bashed up door yelling at me to get to sleep.
But I wouldn't be sleeping here tonight. Nor ever again if I could help it.
This. This was my permanent goodbye from the man who never loved me in the first place, the woman who I actually felt deserved the title of Mother already knew she wouldn't see me in the morning. Knew I'd been yearning to escape this house for years already. If only she had done more...perhaps I would have stayed. But as things stood...
I slide the window open, the wood barely making a noise in it's groove, for which I was grateful. I didn't need a creaky window giving me away.
I glanced around the room one last time to check that I hadn't forgotten anything, no longer really thinking of it as a bedroom. Satisfied, I slid out of the window and onto the roof of the garage, a short drop later, and I was on the ground, bicycle on hand, keys to the car I'd purchased days ago in my pocket. I couldn't afford for that man to hear the ignition starting in the middle of the night, so I'd parked the car at a lot nearby.
Foot on the pedals of the bike, I took off down the dark empty street without a backwards glance.
Finally. Finally I was free.
-Inspiration from a conversation.
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