***Remember when I promised original stories? Here’s your first taste, BuzzKillers! Freedom: Part 1, an original story by me, Michelle Moe. This story is fictional and does not reflect any persons, living or dead. Please consider this work, copyright to me. If you steal, I will find you and I will do nasty things to you. Enjoy! ***
Freedom: Part 1
What is it that makes us who we are? Where does that little voice in our heads come from that keeps us on the straight and narrow? Our dreams come from somewhere, from inside of us. What put it there? Past lives? Pre-destiny? God?
These were the questions I had set out to answer when I started my journey. Life had gotten tangled and directionless. I needed a fresh start. I’d been struggling with personal demons for far too long and I just couldn’t take it any more. One day, I’d finally had enough. I looked around the dingy apartment, I shared with another man in the long line of bad choices that had become my love life. I realized I was in a dead end job, living with a dead end man, and that my dreams had become a dead end. I’d lost them so long ago, I couldn’t even remember what they were.
That’s what got me thinking. I took a drag of my cigarette as I stared out the small window overlooking the bad part of town. I had no idea how I’d gotten to where I was. What would my 15 year old self say to my now 30 year old self? I don’t think she’d even recognize me. She had had such high hopes. There was so much to learn and explore. I was going to discover something. I had no idea what that might be, but I was going to be heard and my voice was going to be cherished.
Still staring out the window, I stubbed out my cigarette on Hank’s stack of porno mags that he never bothered to hide from me. I took a deep breath and glanced down at the smoldering Miss January. The smoke curled up in the air in front of me, chaotic and without purpose. A great description of my life at the moment. Watching that smoke rise, I felt something inside of me snap.
I stood up and walked to the tiny bedroom. Without really considering what I was doing, I dug out my duffle bag and started shoveling my clothes into it. In a whirlwind I buzzed around our pathetic excuse for a home and gathered up the few things I considered valuable: a few books, a couple of pictures of places I’d been when I was younger, my laptop. Whatever fit in my duffle was what I would take. Thinking back now, I left so much behind that I never even considered taking. For some reason the family photo albums and trinkets just didn’t need to go with me. I had decided I was getting out and starting over right that minute.
I pulled the crappy cell phone out of my purse and left it sitting on the counter with my house keys. I scribbled a quick note to Hank. “Can’t do this anymore. Good luck.” I wondered how long it would take him to notice I was gone and find the note. As I left the apartment, I don’t think I even looked behind me. I don’t think I locked the door. I was suddenly desperate to get out and I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I was going away.
My beloved 65 Mustang was parked in the community garage. It was a family heirloom that I’d inherited some years ago from an aunt. I’d named the car Molly and sunk everything I could at the time into making Molly the envy of the road. She’d been updated with more modern luxuries like an all-new stereo system that let me hook up my Smartphone or MP3 as well as power steering and breaks The V8 engine I’d had installed made Molly purr like a wild beast. Oh yes, Molly was and is to this day my pride and joy.
I threw my duffle in the back seat as I slid into the driver’s side. I recall the weather still being drizzly and I left the top up. Molly roared to life as I turned the key. It sounded like triumph to me. Molly was telling me she was proud of me. She was ready to be out of this hellhole and on the road. She would always be with me and she would take me wherever I wanted to go. I may have been a bit tipsy on the thought of freedom at the time.
The first item on my agenda was to get myself a new phone. I’d love to say that I was eschewing any form of technology, but that would be a lie. If nothing else, I needed that GPS. Molly may be gorgeous, but she’s lost if I’m behind the wheel. With that in mind, I headed to the local mall and allowed myself to be prey to the mobile phone vultures. I went with a completely new carrier than what I had with Hank. At that moment, I didn’t want anybody to find me. I was running away and I knew it. Eventually I would make contact with people, but right then and there, I needed to be on my own.
That being the case, I decided to splurge a bit on the most high-end phone I could afford. It had all the bells and whistles, unlimited data, stellar GPS, and always-reliable reception. It also made me realize I needed to close out my bank account and open new ones. That became the next step on my journey to freedom. It was starting to feel just a little too responsible, but I did it. I spent the rest of that day erasing myself from everybody’s knowledge. Nobody would know how to find me. Nobody would be able to track me. Hell, I even stopped at the local police station to let them know I wasn’t a missing person. I think they thought I was nuts and they had me sign a sworn affidavit that I wasn’t being kidnapped against my will. I also had to give them my phone number to have on file in case “anything came up.” I guess they were expecting some bodies or something. Can’t say I blame them. Even I didn’t know where I was going or what I would be doing.