“No,” I thought. “This not happening. No, no, no.”
My car was breaking down again and at the worst possible time. I was finally getting away from my husband and there was smoke flowing freely from under my hood.
The Xanax I took before leaving the house was quickly wearing off. Like fast enough that it didn’t even have time to start working.
What if he caught up to me? What if I don’t get away? The months of preparation and the smuggling away of small bills and the security of a new identity… God, why would this happened now? Did Brady somehow find out what I was doing? That I was leaving? I couldn’t stand to cover up one more bruise. I couldn’t handle one more Urgent Care trip because of another fall down the stairs. This was my chance. My future. I knew it totally was over when Brady’s Chevy rolled up behind me.
I prayed for the first time in years. I prayed that Brady would stay in his car, that he would let me go. But more than that, I prayed he would go to jail and not hurt anyone else ever again. When I opened my eyes, the Chevy was slowing inching toward my driver side door. A tear rolled down my cheek as the passenger window opened.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Do you need help?”
I nearly screamed. It wasn’t Brady. I thought my prayers had been answered until I saw the gun.
One response to “Break Down”
Woah 😮 chills man