Never Coming Home

The alarm clock next to her bed began blaring at 4:30 a.m. Her arm jolted out from under the covers and silenced the clock almost as quickly as it had begun so shriek. She couldn't--she wouldn't risk waking him.

Today was going to be the day.

She moved the covers off her small body every so gently, ensuring they didn't make any noise. She had packed the night before, everything she could fit into two large suitcases. They were his, but she didn't care. He'd given her a living nightmare for the last seven years. The least he could do was spare a fucking suitcase.

She got out of her somewhat childish purple pajama bottoms with Tinkerbell all over them and into a cream sundress with navy flowers all over it. She slipped some black ballet flats on her size 6 feet and opened her door just wide enough to get both suitcases out one at a time. She shut the door behind her so that he would think she was just sleeping in.

Despite the fact that she was already feeling somewhat liberated, she also felt horribly disgusting. She couldn't brush her teeth or take a shower that morning; the running water would risk making too much noise. So, she settled on an old box of Junior Mints that were laying on the kitchen counter. It was candy, but at least had some kind of clean taste to it. She quietly tiptoed over to the end table, debating on whether or not to leave a note for him. No kind words or anything like that. Just a simple, "Screw you" would be sufficient. But, deciding he wasn't even worth that, she grabbed her purse off the dining room table, opened the front door, and edged her way out, nearly toppling over from the weight of her two bags.

"Shit," she whispered to herself. "I'm never gonna get a cab this early."

As she trudged to the nearest train station, her mind raced. Was this a good idea? Should she have given him just one more chance? Would he ever find her? After all, she wasn't going that far away. But maybe someplace close by would be the last place he'd look?

Before she knew it, she had reached the train station. She handed the woman in the booth a $20 and politely asked for a one way ticket to Princeton. An elderly male porter offered to help her with her luggage, but she declined. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and said,

"You'll be all right. Don't worry." She glared at him and boarded the train. Things like that were only supposed to happen in movies.

The train ride was a long one, but she made a point to put her suitcases in the seats surrounding her so no one would bother her. All she wanted was to listen to her iPod and erase the past seven years.

Through the melodic tunes of John Lennon's "Imagine," she was able to make out the conductor saying, "Princeton is the stop. Heeeere's Princeton." Sort of like a gameshow announcer, but more annoying. She gripped her suitcases tightly once again and headed out into the pouring rain. She took out the small piece of paper she had written the address of her apartment on, and wandered off aimlessly in search of a taxi.

Standing on a street corner in the rain, she felt the tears choking her in the hollow of her throat. Not because she would miss him. Not because she had no place to go; her friend had already found her a great place near the bar where she sang. The tears quickly became those of rage because she didn't know what had set her off in the first place.

As she rounded what felt like the fourteenth corner in her endless search for a cab, she ran smack into an older man. His face was unshaven, grey hair a bit tousled, but blue eyes-- they were piercing. She couldn't help but stare for a moment. But the man- he just looked annoyed.

"Sorry." She uttered in a near whisper. The man didn't say anything. Just looked at her with his cold stare, almost as if he was studying her, trying to figure out what was upsetting her.

"Watch where you're going." He muttered as he limped away. All at once, she felt sad and alone again. But as she watched him climb onto his beat up motorcycle, she grinned through her tears.

I might be okay... she thought, just as a taxi rolled up...