The Morning I Decided to Leave Him

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Abstract

n.We spent the night at my coworker’s apartment. The trains had stopped running and New York at night was no place to be. My abuser accused us of cheating. He threw out any sexist insult his brain could find. My coworker attempted to intervene, and I paid the price for their portrayal of ‘love’ and ‘ownership’.I lay on his pull-out coach, dizzy from the alcohol and the fight, and I listened as they argued. When the world went dark and quiet, I thought to myself ‘I hope I don’t wake up’, ‘I hope this misery ends’, ‘I hope this gray world slips away.’The next morning my coworker offered to drive us to the train station, but I refused. I just wanted to run far away. I attempted to appease my abuser and hi

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s burning hatred of me. I tried to prove my loyalty. But once we opened the door I was met with a rising pink and gold, flushing over my chilled skin.The warmth reminded me how the sun grants us this great miracle of heat. All this time I had been kindling myself in the sporadic warmth of my abuser and the safety of my coworker. This Earth and its sun have shown me a greater love than either of them could ever offer.We walked side by side down the twisted sidewalk, not saying a word until I started laughing. More slurs left his lips but all I could do was smile. I was manic with joy because I knew this would be our last walk together. And soon I’d be marching alone through white snow and orange sky.</article></body>

Memoir in Flash Fiction

Photo from author. Image taken near my father’s house in New York

My abuser held my hand tightly as he marched me through the gray city. It was seven in the morning and we were going to catch our train back to Long Island.

My arm still throbbed from where he had slapped me the night before. My wrist still burned from where he and my coworker grabbed and twisted me in a fight. The streets were packed with people and their eyes were on me as I faded into the rage of these men.

We spent the night at my coworker’s apartment. The trains had stopped running and New York at night was no place to be. My abuser accused us of cheating. He threw out any sexist insult his brain could find. My coworker attempted to intervene, and I paid the price for their portrayal of ‘love’ and ‘ownership’.

I lay on his pull-out coach, dizzy from the alcohol and the fight, and I listened as they argued. When the world went dark and quiet, I thought to myself ‘I hope I don’t wake up’, ‘I hope this misery ends’, ‘I hope this gray world slips away.’

The next morning my coworker offered to drive us to the train station, but I refused. I just wanted to run far away. I attempted to appease my abuser and his burning hatred of me. I tried to prove my loyalty. But once we opened the door I was met with a rising pink and gold, flushing over my chilled skin.

The warmth reminded me how the sun grants us this great miracle of heat. All this time I had been kindling myself in the sporadic warmth of my abuser and the safety of my coworker. This Earth and its sun have shown me a greater love than either of them could ever offer.

We walked side by side down the twisted sidewalk, not saying a word until I started laughing. More slurs left his lips but all I could do was smile. I was manic with joy because I knew this would be our last walk together. And soon I’d be marching alone through white snow and orange sky.