Away.

Talia glanced out the window at the frozen tundra surrounding her with a grimace. She had let John drag her to his parents' cabin for the winter holiday break from their work. She had been dreading leaving work for a few reasons, and being stuck in this log hell hole wasn't her ideal way to be spending her time off. Especially not with John.

At work she didn't have to face the fact that her relationship was going no where. She couldn't see herself marrying John, but she didn't know how to end it. John was safe, John was kind, John took care of her, and John was so endlessly dull.

Talia craved something more than watching Mad Men in a Maine cabin in the dead of winter. She wished she could be back at work to be near Harrison, her coworker.

She didn't mean to cheat, to have an affair, to betray her boyfriend of god knows how long. But something about Harrison...

He wouldn't forget that she hated the cold. He wouldn't forget that she fell through thin ice as a kid and was terrified of snow ever since. She had told John, but she had also let him take her here, she didn't want him to suspect she was anything but wholly devoted, anyway.

Talia pulled her hands into her large, red, sweater. It was thicker than a fisherman's and swallowed her, even though she was slightly over weight. She used her overhanging sleeves to wipe her large nose. It was running, the cold always made her nose run.

The door to the small office she had holed herself up in creaked open, and John, oh dear sweet John, peeked his head in. He was only two inches taller than Talia, something she resented. She was already so self conscious about her body, that such a short partner made her feel even less dainty and delicate, a feeling she craved. His messy dark brown hair, and sharp prominent features made him look like a sneaky rat poking his head into her secret hideaway.

From behind the door, he produced two wine glasses, balanced dangerously in his right hand. He held them up towards her and shook them gently, as though to say, 'A peace offering!'. He nervously slid out from behind the heavy oak barrier, from the hallway into the dimly lit, yet warmly decorated room. He took a few tentative steps towards his girlfriend, who he honestly feared, and stood awkwardly in the middle of the large fur rug, just out of Talia's arm's reach.

"Well? What?" Talia asked impatiently. She looked to the large painting near the door, instead of his eyes. John was never sure of himself, and it made Talia want to scream.

"I...thought...wine?" John extended his arm.

Talia jutted her neck out and raised her eyebrows, as though to call him crazy through her expression. Her long, black hair fell towards her face as she pushed her thick rimmed reading glasses up her nose. "Wine?" She mocked.

John sighed and shuffled closer. Her carefully sat on the gray couch under a large window, that she was sitting crisscross on, near her feet. He pushed the glass into her hand. "Wine." he said, more sure of himself.

Talia half smiled, out of obligation. "Thanks," she whispered.

They sat in silence and drank.

Two hours later, Talia was lying on their bed with a half empty bottle of whiskey standing on her stomach. John was in the tub, taking a bath. 'What men take baths?' Talia thought.

Talia didn't want to be in a log cabin drinking, three days before Christmas. She wanted to be with Harrison, laying over her desk while Harrison forcefully....

She felt the years of resentment wash over her. The ages of merely tolerating John, the long time the original spark had been dimming, and the more recent time it had been completely gone. The anger of the thought of wasted years and energy built up tightly in her chest. She slammed the whiskey onto her nightstand, and in one motion, was on her feet next to the bed. The tears from frustration and not knowing where to go stung the corners of her eyes, and her face grew pale from the thought of how much she disliked-no, hated- John. Him, his stupid parents, his stupid wine, and his stupid, stupid, stupid self. Talia bit down so hard on her lip that it started to bleed, and more tears came.

Slowly rolling down her cheeks, and then pouring to the ground. The tears clouded her vision until she couldn't see. She didn't see the stairs as she walked down them, the hand carved railing brushing her fingers. She didn't see the living room fireplace, the deep red bricks that arched gracefully over the rolling fire. She didn't see the well worn recliner, the family photos, or the kitchen door. The counters went unnoticed, the butcher block unseen. The handle of the knife never touched her eyes, and the floorboards on the way to the bathroom didn't, either. The brass doorknob could've been gold, for all Talia saw. And John's chest might've been nothing at all, maybe a large piece of meat Talia was cutting for dinner.

Her arm reached back up and down, up and down, and her ears blocked out his screams. She didn't want John, she wanted Harrison. She wanted John to disappear. She wanted compensation for the years she wasted. She wanted revenge.

Soon her arm grew tired, soon her eyes cleared. Her brain fog lifted, and she realized. She made a big mistake. Her anger melted away, and her sanity descended. 'Oh God, what am I going to do?' Talia's brain screamed. She needed help. To get rid of John's body, to make up an excuse, and an alibi! She needed some serious assistance.

She needed to get away. She already missed John. The resentment hid the deep down love she held, and the actions she took scared her. She wasn't sure she even did it. She didn't remember! Talia needed to clear her thoughts, her head was pounding and her mind was screaming. Away. Away. Out. Not here.

Talia ran to the front door, and beads of sweat dripped from her hairline. She grasped the doorknob of the large wooden door. Her body froze. Her eyes grew wide as she looked out the peep hole. Oh god, she hated the snow.

Talia took a shaky breath and opened the extremely heavy door. She felt the sharp, icy wind cut into her face, and through her sweater. Out. Now. In the doorway, she stood, stoically looking out into the vast expanse of snow. The porch was frozen over, and slick as silk. With worry in her eyes, a step was taken, slowly, calculated, and calmly, onto the frozen porch. Then her foot met the other, and she let out another breath. She was out. Away. Free.

As Talia started walking out onto the deck and down the stairs, through the snow, into the distance, she threw up her arms and whooped. It felt good to be out. Free. Away. At least for now.