Second Chances

It was cold, that was the first thing that I noticed when I stepped out of my father’s house with my duffle bag. I was leaving, I was officially homeless. At seventeen, this was my worst nightmare. However, anything had to be better than living in that house. The constant bickering and fighting with my stepmother had put me in a bad mental state. To the point where I was contemplating suicide. It was time to leave, I just didn’t know where I would end up. I couldn’t think about that now, I had to go to work. So, off I trudged to Subway with my duffle bag in tow. It took me about five minutes to get there, it was just up the hill from the house. I hid my duffle under a maze of bushes where it couldn’t be spotted. I didn’t want anyone to find the only belongings I had left. I headed inside the restaurant, the bell chiming above my head, alarming the workers at my entrance. The annoyed looks I got from the workers were only fleeting as they thought I was a customer. No, it was only me, homeless me getting prepared for my shift. The nagging thought of where I was going to be after my shift was at the forefront of my mind. I tried to shake it off, but it was nearly impossible. I was terrified. In a world that was increasingly becoming dangerous, I was now alone to fend for myself. Yes, it was my choice, but it was this or take a bottle of pills and never wake up. Kelly was working today, which made me grateful. I have only worked with her a handful of times and she has always been nice to me. I stood by her and watched as she braided the bread. We didn’t get many people who requested this type of loaf, but it was good to be prepared if that rare customer came in. “Hey, Kelly,” I said, approaching the dishwasher. “Hey, girl! How are you?” She smiled at me. I didn’t smile back, I didn't know if I should tell her. But, if I didn’t, she would ask questions later when no one came to pick me up. I wasn’t considered a runaway, because of the fact that my father told me to leave and never come back. He told me that after he saw my packed duffle. So, I left with him wanting me to leave.  “I’m officially homeless,” I chuckled bitterly. “What?” She shrieked. “What do you mean? What happened?” So, I told her how I packed what I needed into a duffle bag and left. I couldn’t take the daily verbal assaults from my stepmother anymore. “Where is your bag?” She asked, “I’ll put it in my car.” I walked out of the restaurant, the bell chiming once again over my head, and grabbed my duffle from under the bushes. I took it to her car and put it in her trunk. She drove a tiny little red Pontiac. I went back inside and let her know where it was. “I may have a place for you to stay tonight.” She told me. Later that night, when we had finished closing the restaurant, we closed and locked the doors. Then we walked to her car that was parked close to the front. We headed away, I watched as the roads winded around this way and that, until we arrived at a trailer house. I was small and quaint, not many people around. The darkness created an eerie contrast to the bright porch light. We got to the front of the house and she told me to wait while she put her dogs in the room. As I waited, I listened to the crickets chirp in sync like they were singing a song. Tiredness was seeping into my body, I felt heavy. The day was long and emotionally exhausting. Kelly came to the door, and let me into the now quiet house. She led me to a room off to the right of the hallway. It was made into a storage room, but I could see that she cleared off the bed so I could sleep on it. I was grateful that she was letting me stay. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have any place to go. I set my duffle bag on the floor and pulled out my night clothes. I changed into my favorite soft gray sweatpants and an oversized Pink Floyed T-shirt. I settled into bed and covered myself with a floral comforter. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The next morning, I lay there, not sure whether to get up on my own or to wait for Kelly to get up. Years and years of controlled abuse left me uncertain of what action I should take. At the age of seventeen, I was so used to being told what to do rather than given a choice that I failed to understand independence. All I could think of was this was not my house. I needed to wait until I was summoned by Kelly. It was our day off, so it wasn’t like I really needed to get up at the moment anyway. However, my restlessness had me sitting up.  There was a knock at my door and Kelly walked in. She was already dressed and she told me to get ready. She had a surprise for me. So I got dressed. I had an issue with my appearance. I was not slim from any standpoint; I was very overweight. Sitting at two-hundred and ten pounds, I was big in my eyes. I hate to look at myself in the mirror. I got ready without looking at myself, I didn’t want to scrutinize every single one of my flaws.  I walked out of the room fully dressed in a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of sneakers. We walked out of the house together and got into her Pontiac. We drove to the closest Wal_mart and walked to the electronics department. There she picked out a phone and purchased it. She had the associate set up the phone and then she handed it to me.  “There, now you have something to be able to contact people with.” She told me. “Thank you,” I responded. I was grateful that she did that for me. It wasn’t everyday that someone was willing to do something this nice for someone else. We walked to the front of the store, where I saw someone I recognized. He recognized me too. It was my ex-boyfriend, Cameron Hicks. His hair had grown long, it was curly and dark. He had gotten taller, but not by much. He may have been about five inches taller than me. “Marie! How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in years.” He smiled at me. “I’ve been better, but I’m going to be okay, I think.” I smiled back at him, wondering why he wanted to approach me at all. We hadn’t ended things on good terms. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?” “Not at the moment, but I’ll be sure to let you know. Can I have your number? Maybe we can catch up sometime.” I asked him. “Sure, hand me your phone and I’ll enter it in your contacts.” He did, then handed me my phone back. “Thank you! I really have to go, but I’ll text you.” I told him. I waved goodbye and headed to where Kelly was chatting up the Subway worker. It was getting close to lunch time and we were both getting hungry. We decided it was time to get food before we headed back to the house.