Forever Freedom

The sunlight shone into my eyes, but I didn’t mind. The light breeze felt good against my skin. As I looked up into the sun, I noticed an American flag flying high in the sky. My sundress mimicked the ripples of my American flag. As I took a deep breath in, another person stepped out into the sunlight. The world seemed to darken as a cloud covered the sun. I shivered from the strong wind that was once refreshing a breeze. I didn’t see him at first, but I heard him.

“Carrie! Is that you?” My arm hair stood up. My body moved forward to see him, but my mind screamed. It wanted to run inside and lock the door.

This was my own personal horror story.

There he was. His loose fitting dress shirt was the exact shade of my sundress. If I stood next to him, I bet it would look like we were dating again. Never in a million years would I date him again. I learned my lesson. I looked at the scars on my arms. Never in a million years.

“Carrie! I knew that was you! It’s so nice to see you again after all this time. How’s your family?”

“You know how they are.” He knew my mom died. He pretended to care while I cried for hours in his arms.

He realized that I was staring. “You noticed I’ve been working out.” I wanted to scream at him to go away, for acting like everything was normal, and for treating me like a piece of trash that he found on the side of the road. It wasn’t fair.

“Goodbye.” I turned around to leave, but he grabbed my shoulder with that all too familiar grip. I flinched.

“What’s wrong?” He feigned concern. I knew that look, were he raises his eyebrows so that you can’t tell whether he’s concerned or suspicious.

“Stop pretending like you don’t know what’s wrong. Leave me alone,” I whispered so the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

“Leave me alone. You know I can’t do that. I love you! I’m a good person.” He purposely yelled.

“Please don’t do this again” I whispered.

“What are you talking about, baby? I love you!”

I just walked away after that. I couldn’t do this anymore. Not again. I could tell he wouldn’t let me leave. He wasn’t the kind of guy to do that, but he did. I walked all the way back to my house, and he went back to his. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling he was there. So, when I got home, I practically ran to the kitchen, opened the highest drawer, and took the sharpest knife in there.. I don’t know what I would do with it, but just having it in my hand made me feel more safe.

I went to bed, the soft blanket comforted me more than he could ever do. My fingers were tightly wrapped around the knife.

I hadn’t been able to sleep, but I saw a vision. It must have been a dream. My mom woke up from the dead, and she kept saying his name, “John. John! JOHN!” Each time she got louder and louder. She pointed a bony finger at him, and she fell back into her grave, the petunias I got her still there.

As I rose from my bed, he was there, staring at me through my window. I was frozen for a second. A moment where everything he did to me flooded through my mind. The time when he called me a slut for wearing a swimsuit. The time he isolated me, telling me that my friends were bad influences. The time when he told me I should just stop grieving a week after my mother passed. The time when he told me my problems didn’t matter because I had him, when in reality, he had me. I was wrapped around his fingers, trapped by his presence. And, there he was, staring at me through my window. I quickly turned away from him, so he wouldn’t realize I saw him.

I slowly sat back down on my bed, grabbing my knife. It was time. Time to stop the pain. The trauma. The drama. Something snapped that I never thought could snap. I was doing what I always wanted to do, at least subconsciously. I didn’t care about the consequences. It didn’t matter anymore.

I slowly walked over to the window, yawning, so he knew that I was there. I opened it, but only slightly. He would have to open the window slightly to get in. And, fortunately for me, he didn’t know that my bedroom window is the noisiest window ever.

I strolled over to the kitchen, knife in hand. I opened the refrigerator door, seemingly to get a snack. And, sure enough I heard a creak. I slammed the door closed. He was unarmed, as I thought. He knew his mere presence would scare me into submission. But, I knew him better than he knew me.

With several thrusts of my knife, he was dead. As blood spilled on my hands, it was over. I stabbed him a couple more times just to be sure he would never come back, and I drove away.

I drove until sunrise. When I stepped out of my car, into the sunlight, I felt complete. I felt truly free. I took a deep breath, making the bit of blood that got stuck in my throat come out. I felt safe knowing that he wouldn’t torture me or another poor girl anymore. The blood on my hands dried in the sunlight. The breeze was blowing against my pajamas just so. But something was off.

I heard the sirens before I saw them. The police had followed me. The weather was so nice, it was impossible to feel sad as the policeman handcuffed me. The sun felt so warm against my skin, making my handcuffs feel room temperature.

The car ride was beautiful. The scenery was truly spectacular. I hadn’t gotten the chance to observe the city yet, because I was focused on getting out of the countryside. I wondered if John was still there, laying on the floor of my kitchen. His eternal fate in death was the same as my eternal fate in jail. But, it’s not, is it?

The policeman gave me a wink.

“Can you drop me off here, Mark?”

“Sure, stay out of trouble from here on out, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks for doing this. I guess you didn’t abandon me after all.”

“I’ll always be here when you need me.”