Walk the Line

by PentagoetPuffin

This was my last hope. My Hail Mary. Never in my life did I think that I would end up here, back in Riverdale. I thought that I'd washed my hands of that Snake Pit once and for all, but it turns out that Snakes don't shed their skins so easily especially when they're in dire need of sanctuary. WARNING: This work contains mentions/depictions of domestic violence

1. Prologue - Hurt

Prologue - Hurt

I packed a bag and called a cab. I was going to leave a life of hell behind and never look back. My flight out of Denver International Airport left in two hours, and when my cab pulled up outside that house I'd lived in for 12 years, suitcase in one hand, my guitar in the other, and backpack on my back, I ran. I ran from my life and my husband, but most importantly, I ran from the person that I'd become, a shell of my former self.

After I left high school, everything seemed to be going alright. I went to college then to graduate school for my master's. Life was looking up for this small-town girl from the wrong side of the tracks. That was until I met the man that I would eventually call "my husband."

He was the definition of charismatic. He was the star of his high school football team and even went on to play at a D2 school in Colorado. Not only was he a football player but he also played ice hockey and lacrosse, a three-season athlete. I'd never met someone so wonderful in my life. Our first 2 years of dating were electric and invigorating. When we finally got married though, things started to change. He drank more, got angry more, and about 18 months in, he started to—

"We're here, miss, Frontier's East terminal," the taxi driver said. "Do you need help with your bags?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I quickly replied as I jumped out of the car and grabbed my suitcase and guitar from the trunk. I tipped the driver and made my way to the check-in counter.

Once through check-in, I made my way through the masses towards the security checkpoint. I was practically on autopilot as I went through security and even on the way to my gate. I found an ATM a distance from where I was to take off and decided to empty my bank account. I didn't want bank statements to leave a trail for him to follow. This is where my trail would go cold. When I finally boarded the plane and took my seat, I sighed with relief. This would be my freedom.

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I landed in Albany, New York, four hours after leaving Denver, and rented a small car, just enough to get me where I was going then I'd return it. Once I was home, I wouldn't need it anymore. But the drive would be long. I needed to make it there in one full trip. Stopping would leave room for him to find me.