At 15 I had one shot (one real shot) to escape in my own right and I squandered it trying to prove a point!
I. wanted. out.
I know he loved me, it wasn’t enough that motherfucker was crazy. (He, yes he, specifically, tried to break me. It didn’t work. I’m still who I’ve always been. )
My Father laid into me about a singular dirty bowl in the sink.
I was ripe for it, a storm kicked up, and I ran off.
I was still not happy about bad weather then and the storm definitely fueled my step.
Should’ve just stayed on foot…
I will always regret not leaving the state then.
(It was the worst night. Followed by some Spartan shit. I turned green for a few days.)
I craved three things- security, peace and freedom.
I was smart enough to have them all,
And my Father was smart enough to fuck￼￼ up my documentation so I couldn’t run.
I would have left.
🎶Vroom Vroom bitches🎶
It’s￼ just that a lot of the unforgivable shit happened at the end.
*For the record, I didn’t know anything until 19 but I’m a great driver. Nyah Nyah
I spun a Jeep￼ twice without flipping it after a drunk bitch hit me.
I AM the getaway driver!