Disclaimer: I own none of JE's characters. Any you recognize are not mine, I am just playing with them. Thanks for reading.
AN: This is an A/R story. Stephanie moves away from the Burg and her life there and changes her name. Her nickname is Isis.
April 14th –Isis (formerly known as SMP) POV 1-95
Finally! I was driving an anonymous tan Camry that I bought used for cash across many states to my new residence. I was singing Fantasy by Mariah Carey. The wind blowing through my hair felt good. I was dressed in a knee length denim skirt and a long sleeved graffiti shirt that was turquoise and had a hood with a hooded Xavier sweatshirt jacket. On my feet, were my brown knee boots that had a 6 ½" spiked heel. My hair was in a ponytail. I looked different and I felt so amazing!
I know it is not the same feeling as being a freed slave, but maybe like a woman who has escaped from Stepford. Once I hit Virginia, I stopped looking over my shoulder.
I was good at misdirection and the search parties would be aimed west and not south. Those people were like sheeple anyway. They would latch onto one idea and never use logic to reason out the truth. If they did, my childhood and ensuing years would be very different.
I was almost turned into a robotic, pearl wearing, Jersey makeup slathering, casserole baking, PTA joining, not caring if my husband is cheating on me, pot roast wielding Burg woman. They had almost arranged my marriage! They had already chosen the groom and named my non existent kids. There was a large behemoth of a dog that drooled and the house was so small.
Everywhere I went in town, people asked when the big day was. At first I thought they were talking about a pregnancy, and I told them loudly that I was not expecting. They would titter at me and say, no, the wedding. Apparently, Helen was planning my wedding. Without my input. Without a proposal. Without a freaking relationship. But the Burg took it as gospel of course that I must be getting married.
The last time I saw my "mother", she was packing about 6 bridal magazines and she had put together quite the bridal planning book for a pink June wedding with a reception at the VFW that would never happen. Those dresses looked like cupcakes. She had even chosen my bridesmaids. I only knew those girls from high school and we were not friends. I left before dessert and I did not look back.
That was almost a month ago. I had my own sit-in and refused to cross her threshold if she invited that man to share the meal. She was exasperated with me. She could not understand my skittishness and had assured my answering machine several times that I was being too shy and that my future husband wanted to spend quality time with me. Why was my "mother" pimping me out to that ass? I refuse to explain about him. Nope. Not now.
I shudder and change the cd in my car to Earth, Wind and Fire. I may be Italian with maybe some black in the grandparent region, but I love hip hop and oldies. Okay, I am calm again. I will not think about that town or those people until I am at a hotel. I could have crashed my car.
After stopping for a lunch at a soul food place, I resumed my trek. I have reservations at 6 area hotels, so I am not worried about where to sleep. I was drawn to this highway, and I went with the feeling. I sigh in contentment. I felt so free finally that I was sight-seeing my way to my new city of residence. I was singing Kanye west's good life and chair dancing a little bit. It was April 14th and I was freeeee! I stopped at random hotels and went to the zoo, farms, museums and restaurants all the way down the east coast on my way to Miami.
