Here I am.
Current time.
Anaheim, California.
While my boyfriend is working on his image.
Alone.
Depressed.
Bruised.
"Are you here, you little shit?" His voice called from the front door.
I said nothing.
I wanted to scream no.
But my throat wouldn't let me.
Let me breath.
"C'mon Kirsten! Don't hide from me! It's only me! Carlos!" He yelled from the kitchen.
Bathroom, don't fail me now.
As it on cue, the bathroom door swung open.
Facing me with my doom.
"Thought you could hide, huh?" He asked.
My body wouldn't move.
The pain if every blow he's ever taken on me,
Rushing to my almost lifeless body.
"Hey! Shitface! I'm talking to you!" He yelled.
Me, a helpless girl envisioning pain on herself.
Him, going to one day be a widower.
A strong hand pulled my face to meet his cold eyes.
You can't hide forever! My mind told me.
"You know what, Carlos?! I'm through with your shit!" I yelled becoming face to face with my horror. Totally through the sweet phase.
His strong hand pushed into my gut, and I took the painful time to run away. I'm totally through with running. I ran and once again found the airport.
"I can help you over here!" A tall, tan, skanky woman yelled. I walked over.
"Where would you like to go." She said with a straight face. Not happy and cheery, like the back home.
I quickly checked the flight schedule to find Carlos dragging my luggage behind him.
"Get out and stay out." He snarled.
"Twas my plan." I said.
As he walked away I whispered to the woman, "Seattle."

And with that I was running away from my problems, for the third time.
Seattle, here I come!

Notes

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