She stood nervously at the ticket counter, tapping her
fingers on the faded formica as the young man clicked away on his computer. ‘Please
let there be a seat,’ she begged him in her mind. He looked up and smiled
suspiciously, wondering why she was wearing her sunglasses inside. It wasn’t
even bright out today. She noticed him glance at the large windows that
betrayed her and showed everyone around her that the day was as overcast as her
spirit.
“Okay, a one-way ticket to the Caribbean. It looks like we
have a seat.”
She smiled gleefully, and he began to process the booking. “Um,
can you please take off your sunglasses so we can take your photo. It’s for
security purposes.” Her smile disappeared and she hesitantly peeled them away
from her face. The bruising was evident almost immediately, black and blue and
cupping her bloodshot right eye. His smile disappeared as well, and her pain
suddenly slapped him in the face. This was her escape. This was her only way
out of the hell she had been living in for over 18 months. The hell that began
as the pure, lustful love of cheesy romance novels and ended in rage and fear.
The police weren’t willing to help. They all belonged to him. The money that he
used to initially draw her in with lavish gifts and exotic adventures was being
used to buy corrupt police officers in their small town. He owned that town. He
owned her. Until today, when she took out crumpled dollar bills and dirty coins
that she had been saving from her leftover grocery money in order to make her
escape. He would not own her anymore. And she looked up at the camera, and
smiled.
