Day 6: J - Homeward Bound
Winters in Iowa were bitter at best. In a state that constantly got mixed up with Idaho and Ohio, where nothing much happened, and everyone wished they lived somewhere else, all roads seemed to lead back to Des Moines.
She had been standing outside in the blistering cold for 45 minutes. The train was late. Would it be too much to ask for all the stars to align just once in her life?
She pulled out her phone and quickly calculated the time difference. She wouldn’t make it there until well after midnight at this rate.
Fitting that when she finally decided to give into her mother’s pleas and buy a ticket, the train would be late. It was the perfect opportunity for her tear up the ticket, hail a cab and go back home.
Home. It took over a month to find it. Once she got on the train to escape or start new, depending on whose side you were on, she had no plans. She walked out of the station with a backpack and a duffle bag and spent the first night on the streets. It was right before Christmas, and she remembered thinking that if this was how she was going to die, hypothermia, crunched between a dumpster and a hard place in the back alley behind a Walgreens, then at least she didn’t die with him.
A great puff of smoke expelled from deep within her lungs.
It had been 9 months since then. At first, she said she would never go back again. The thought of getting on a train and willingly facing what she left behind caused her to hyperventilate. There was so much she left behind but what would be new? People had a way of thinking about old homes as if they were stuck in time. Like the days didn’t go by just as fast as where they were now.
She could still hear echoes of glass shattering off the old wooden floors as she grabbed them from the cupboard and hurled them down. The place was a disaster, a war zone and she was the bomb that kept going off, unsatisfied with everything she destroyed. Nothing worked, nothing made it better. So, she packed anything she could carry and left. No one knew.
After surviving that night, possibly frostbitten, starving and smelling of the garbage she slept beside, she found a woman’s shelter. It was warm food and a bed, and a step in the right direction. They helped her find a place, start her life again from scratch. It took her a month and a half before she saved up enough money to buy a phone, refurbished with a slight crack in the middle of the screen, but it worked.
Her first call to her mother was harder than expected. She stared at the number for 10 minutes before hitting the call button and almost hung up as soon as it started to ring. It went to voicemail.
At first it was just a staticky chorus of “Baby, it’s Cold Outside” followed by a cheery voice saying, “Hi it’s Joan, leave a message!”
She paused for a moment after the beep, wondering if it was worth saying anything at all. She hadn’t thought of the scenario where her mother didn’t pick up.
“Mom,” she started, slowly, “It’s me. I just called to let you know I’m ok. I have a phone now. So, you can call me.” She hung up.
Her mom called back 4 minutes later, frantic, sobbing through words and begging for her to come home.
“I can’t mom. The thought of –”
It wasn’t that simple, and she knew it.
“No,” She said bluntly. “I can’t.” She hung up and turned off her phone.
When she turned her phone on, there were 7 text messages full of apologies and pleas from her mother to call her back. They left it alone for 6 months after that.
“The 8:20 train to Des Moines is now pulling into the station. Please ensure you have your tickets ready for inspection.”
As the train pulled in, she wondered if she was just being dramatic, if it wouldn’t be as bad as she made it seem. What if she went back and everything was the same? The house was still there for her to walk through the front door. The glass would be cleaned up and new dishes would be sitting in the cupboards waiting to be used. She could call the newspaper, ask if they still wanted someone who could work long hours and knew all 14 punctuation marks and how to use them. She could go over to her parents’ for Sunday brunch or afternoon barbeques. Would it be so bad to fall back into that life, and just pick up where it left off?
But then he would know exactly where to find her and how to get into the house without a key. It wouldn’t be a secret that she was back, and he knew exactly.
The sound of broken glass followed her as she entered the train and gave her ticket to the agent. No, this was all they were going to get. A two-night visit and then she would be on the first train back home.
She had been standing outside in the blistering cold for 45 minutes. The train was late. Would it be too much to ask for all the stars to align just once in her life?
She pulled out her phone and quickly calculated the time difference. She wouldn’t make it there until well after midnight at this rate.
Fitting that when she finally decided to give into her mother’s pleas and buy a ticket, the train would be late. It was the perfect opportunity for her tear up the ticket, hail a cab and go back home.
Home. It took over a month to find it. Once she got on the train to escape or start new, depending on whose side you were on, she had no plans. She walked out of the station with a backpack and a duffle bag and spent the first night on the streets. It was right before Christmas, and she remembered thinking that if this was how she was going to die, hypothermia, crunched between a dumpster and a hard place in the back alley behind a Walgreens, then at least she didn’t die with him.
A great puff of smoke expelled from deep within her lungs.
It had been 9 months since then. At first, she said she would never go back again. The thought of getting on a train and willingly facing what she left behind caused her to hyperventilate. There was so much she left behind but what would be new? People had a way of thinking about old homes as if they were stuck in time. Like the days didn’t go by just as fast as where they were now.
She could still hear echoes of glass shattering off the old wooden floors as she grabbed them from the cupboard and hurled them down. The place was a disaster, a war zone and she was the bomb that kept going off, unsatisfied with everything she destroyed. Nothing worked, nothing made it better. So, she packed anything she could carry and left. No one knew.
After surviving that night, possibly frostbitten, starving and smelling of the garbage she slept beside, she found a woman’s shelter. It was warm food and a bed, and a step in the right direction. They helped her find a place, start her life again from scratch. It took her a month and a half before she saved up enough money to buy a phone, refurbished with a slight crack in the middle of the screen, but it worked.
Her first call to her mother was harder than expected. She stared at the number for 10 minutes before hitting the call button and almost hung up as soon as it started to ring. It went to voicemail.
At first it was just a staticky chorus of “Baby, it’s Cold Outside” followed by a cheery voice saying, “Hi it’s Joan, leave a message!”
She paused for a moment after the beep, wondering if it was worth saying anything at all. She hadn’t thought of the scenario where her mother didn’t pick up.
“Mom,” she started, slowly, “It’s me. I just called to let you know I’m ok. I have a phone now. So, you can call me.” She hung up.
Her mom called back 4 minutes later, frantic, sobbing through words and begging for her to come home.
“I can’t mom. The thought of –”
“He’s not here you know,” she blurted out desperately, “Not since you left. You could come home.”
It wasn’t that simple, and she knew it.
“No,” She said bluntly. “I can’t.” She hung up and turned off her phone.
When she turned her phone on, there were 7 text messages full of apologies and pleas from her mother to call her back. They left it alone for 6 months after that.
“The 8:20 train to Des Moines is now pulling into the station. Please ensure you have your tickets ready for inspection.”
As the train pulled in, she wondered if she was just being dramatic, if it wouldn’t be as bad as she made it seem. What if she went back and everything was the same? The house was still there for her to walk through the front door. The glass would be cleaned up and new dishes would be sitting in the cupboards waiting to be used. She could call the newspaper, ask if they still wanted someone who could work long hours and knew all 14 punctuation marks and how to use them. She could go over to her parents’ for Sunday brunch or afternoon barbeques. Would it be so bad to fall back into that life, and just pick up where it left off?
But then he would know exactly where to find her and how to get into the house without a key. It wouldn’t be a secret that she was back, and he knew exactly.
The sound of broken glass followed her as she entered the train and gave her ticket to the agent. No, this was all they were going to get. A two-night visit and then she would be on the first train back home.
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Prompt: Must include the sentence, "Baby, it's cold outside." Also, must include shattering glass.
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