Shit, shit, shit!
Running into my bedroom, I quickly grab a change of clothes and head to the bathroom to shower. My feet freeze as yesterday afternoon flashes like a movie clip. My shoulders slump in defeat. I can’t believe how my life has turned to shit. I press my lips together to stifle the sob that wants to escape. The backs of my eyes burn from the tears I’m trying to hold at bay. Spinning around, I head back to my bedroom, drop my clothes on the floor and climb into bed, sliding down deep under the covers. Maybe if I can shut out the world for a while, I can start over again when I come out. Curled up in a ball beneath my covers, I close my eyes tight and try to get my heartbeat and breathing under control. An anxiety attack is the last thing I need right now. I need to clear my head, get my thoughts in order so I can make a plan.
Maybe this is a sign.
Maybe I should use this opportunity to my advantage.
Maybe I could do something I’ve always wanted to do.
Maybe I could start over somewhere new.
Memories flood one after the other. When it was only Mom and me, she used to tell me all about her life on the west coast. It’s where she grew up. I would ask her why she left if she loved it so much. She would always gently slide my bangs out of my eyes and tell me she moved because she loved me so much. Her boyfriend abandoned her when she told him she was pregnant, and her parents weren’t happy with her teenage pregnancy. Her dad wanted her to have an abortion, so she ran as far as she could, ending up in Portland, Maine, where I was born. It’s the only place I’ve ever lived. Her stories of life in the west always sounded magical to me as a young girl.
Leaving the safety of my cocoon, I grab my cheap laptop and make myself comfortable on my couch. A hiss leaves my lips as I check my bank account. If I’m super careful and sleep in my car, I may just make it. I’ll need to get a job immediately, but I would have to do that here, anyway. I could pawn my television and laptop and possibly get a little more money. But I may need my laptop to apply for jobs and stuff like that—I guess I could always use the computers at the local library. I look around my small apartment, searching out more items I could sell—I’ve got a couple of things.
Collecting them together, I place them near my front door, ready to take to the pawn shop first thing in the morning. I load up one of my plastic tubs with Ethan’s scrapbook, Mom’s recipe books, and our family photo albums, plus all of my important papers. Next, I pack my clothes, toiletries, and linens. I debate what to do with the few kitchen items I have. If I don’t take them with me, I’ll have to buy new ones, anyway. I may as well take them and save myself some money. I have nothing else I can use to pack them into, so I’ll have to get a box while I’m out tomorrow. Putting everything I’m taking with me into a neat pile in the middle of my living room, I wander around it a few times. It looks like a lot. I hope it’s all gonna fit in my car.
I lay out my clothes for the morning, take a long look around my apartment, and head to bed to get a good night’s sleep. I’ve got a big few days ahead of me.
I doze off to images of west coast sunsets and a fresh start.