It’s Time For Me To Say Goodbye
There comes a time in everyone’s life you need to say ‘no more”. I have reached that time.
When your family makes it clear you were a mistake and never should have been born. I cannot decide what is worse – treating me like I don’t exist or endlessly spewing vile, hateful comments at me.
It’s time to pack up the few belongings I have left, because whatever I manage to save up to buy is destroyed to taken away from me. I would rather take my chances out in the ‘cold, hard world’, as my family calls it, then stay here another minute to die a slow, lingering death.
No one will notice I am gone at first; not until they want something. “Anne, when the hell will dinner be ready?” “Anne, why isn’t the laundry done?” “Anne, stop that gawd awful racket this instant!” “Anne, stop reading that book and fix me a snack!”
The house is quiet now. Everyone is asleep, except me. I’m sitting in my tiny bedroom watching the clock as the minutes tick away. Twenty more minutes until Midnight.
Damn, I want a cigarette, but I don’t dare try to smoke one in the house. Everyone in my family smokes like a chimney, but if I even look at one I get hit. If I talk, I get hit. If I move too slowly, I get hit. Because I exist, I get hit.
I fidget with my purse, checking to see if my money is still there, even though I checked five minutes ago. I have to hide the little money I earn; otherwise my family takes it away. They say I owe them for room and board, because they pay for the clothes on my back and the food in my mouth. What a laugh! I barely have a change of clothes and I am only allowed to eat the scraps after everyone else is finished.
They don’t know about the money I make at school tutoring other students or teaching guitar. I don’t dare try to hide it at home, because they are always searching my room. A bank account is not possible either, without their knowledge. The President of the bank is their friend.
No one is on my side, except Mr. Hartley, the janitor at school. He tried once to report the abuse, but the school told him to mind his own business. My family is influential and no one dares say a bad word against them. I don’t blame Mr. Hartley for being afraid. He’s an old man and desperately needs his job. He did show me a place where I could hide my money and he never took a cent.
Ten minutes until Midnight. I can’t help rocking back and forth on my bed. I’m terrified that any minute someone will burst through my bedroom door and I will pay for my folly with bruises and broken bones. If they discover my plan, I may not survive until Midnight. They won’t stop the beating until I am dead. I strain to hear any sounds, but the house is quiet. The quiet makes me even more nervous. I feel like I am going to be sick as I watch another number flip over on the old alarm clock beside my bed.
A dog barks down the street and I nearly jump out of my skin. No, no, no. What will I do if that dog is still outside at Midnight? I offer a silent prayer to God, the universe or whatever is out there that will listen. The commotion finally stops and all is quiet again. I jump up from my bed and press my ear against the door. All is quiet here, too.
I back away from the door on tiptoes and gather my bag, purse and guitar in my arms. My eyes shift to the clock in time to see the numbers roll to 12:00. Midnight. Everything is ready. I already bypassed the alarm on the only window in this stuffy cell of a room. I even dripped liquid soap along the grooves so the window would slide open easily. There is no screen since I am not allowed to open it even for fresh air.
Now the hated window is open for the first time in more years than I can remember and I drop my meager belongings quietly to the ground. I am tempted to look over my shoulder one last time, but there is nothing there I want to remember. The time has come to look forward, not back.
With the window closed again, I gather my things close and stay in the shadows until I am several blocks away. Mr. Hartley is waiting for me at a closed gas station to drive me to the train depot. I bought a ticket weeks ago using the fake ID I made. At the station I start to climb out of the car, but a hand on my arm stops me. I look back to see tears swimming in Mr. Hartley’s eyes and I almost let out a sob.
“Happy birthday, Anne,” he said as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Now the tears are flowing down my face. That was the first time in my life I ever heard those words. It would also be the last time. Anne died at Midnight when she turned 18 years old.
I leaned across the seat and brushed a kiss on Mr. Hartley’s leathery cheek before I stuffed my hair inside a ball cap and dash for the platform where my train waited. It’s time for me to say goodbye to my old life.
Susan Beecher was just born.
Top & Undershirt: AsteroidBox – “Nancy Sweater” (Maitreya Petite) – NEW @ Kustom9 // February 2022
Pants: Mellowcute – “Vola Shorts night” (Maitreya)
Tights: Izzie’s – “Tights Black (more sheer) (BoM)
Stockings: .:Avanti:. – “Ripped Nylons” (BoM)
Shoes: cinphul – “ravage IV [stomps]” (Maitreya) – NEW @ The Warehouse Sale // February 2022
Cap: cinphul – “ravage IV [cap]” (Group Gift) – NEW @ Mainstore
Earrings: .:E.A.Studio:. – “Earring Mads all linked” (LeLUTKA EvoX female/human)
Ear Lobes: .:E.A.Studio:. – “Inazuma Plug” (LeLUTKA EvoX female/human)
Piercing (Nose): Wicca’s Originals – “Jadeon Piercing” + “Tegan Piercing Set” (unrigged)
Piercing (Mouth): LittleFish – “EziliV2” (Lel. EvoX, Avalon)
Hand Accessories: L’Emporio&PL – “Ancestral” (Maitreya, Bento) – NEW @ Man Cave Event // February 2022
Hair & Makeup
Hair: Exile – “Slow Fade (A)”
Eyeshadow: Izzie’s – “Sultry Smokey Eyeshadow black” (LeL. EvoX BoM)
Mouth: Nefekalum Tattoos – “Hush (You Wish/Black)” – (LeL. EvoX BoM) – NEW @ The Warehouse Sale // February 2022
Head, Body & Tattoo
Poses, Props & Tools
Pose (incl. guitar case): Secret Poses – “Guitar Case ( posestand)” (Bento)
Bag: HILTED – “Gym Bag – Black”
Backpack: Bleich – “Vodka Backpack – Black”
Backdrop: .PALETO. – “Backdrop: LAB X2” – NEW @ The Warehouse Sale // February 2022