I was exhausted after a long day at the diner. My feet ached, my back ached. It had been a busy day but a good day for tips. I had been able to build up the biggest stash at this job with the tips I got. It was a heady feeling, seeing your money grow. I felt a sense of security in it, that each dollar I added to the pile gave me options.
I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, carefully unlocking the door.
Stepping inside I froze. Something was different, someone had been here.
My heart was in my mouth.
I flicked on the overhead light and looked around the room. Nothing had been moved.
I raced to the bedroom and flung open the door, stepping back with my handbag raised as a weapon.
My room was deserted.
My walls were covered with photos. Photos of me working at the diner, pouring coffee. Hunched against the weather walking home. Going up the stairs to my apartment.
Photos of me sleeping, my forehead knotted in restless sleep.
Old photos. Photos of my face as I woke up tied to the bed. Spiders crawling over me.
Photos of me in the bathroom, doing my teeth and readying to shower.
I looked down at my pillow, at the present left behind for a moment before the decision was made.
I opened the cupboard to find my Go-bag gone. I checked the cupboards throughout the flat. All empty.
Shoving what clothes I could into my handbag I headed down the stairs, running the block until I could hail a taxi.
I arrived at the bus station filled with emptiness. Another goodbye to people I barely even knew. I was living my life too scared to know people or enjoy life. Was this all there was to life? How much longer could I live with this? He was escalating.
Cautiously looking around I headed to the long-term lockers. Pulling out my key I unlocked my locker and pulled out my spare Go-Bag.
It was time.