Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by River (that's me) and can be found right here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. on the run 2. belong 3. street 4. breakfast 5. tent 

and/or: this image:

Here is my story:

I’d sped through the night hoping the kids would stay asleep in the back seat. The further away I got, the better I felt. I didn’t belong in that house with him. I’d mistaken possessiveness for love, but the day I came home from work and found him bullying my children, I made my getaway plans.

When he went out to buy more beer, I stashed my camping tent in the wheel well with the spare tyre. When I packed my backpack for the next day’s work, I added breakfast cereals and long-life milk, along with bowls and spoons. He didn’t question that, knowing I often took what he considered odd foods to the office with me.

He did question when I was going to “quit that job and stay home to look after those kids of yours.” I’d replied the boss was currently interviewing replacements but hadn’t found anyone suitable yet.

When the kids had a play date with a family one street over, I’d taken them with extra clothing and their own pillows to take naps on. He thought I was “being weird again.” He never questioned which family the kids played with, so I knew I’d get away safely when I picked them up at dusk and went on the run.

Now I was speeding along the underpass, thankful to see the sky lightening as dawn approached and knowing I was very close to home where my parents would be waiting. We were three states away now and I knew somehow that he wouldn’t bother looking for me. I'd taken nothing of his and we weren't married.