Phoenix Reborn

Grace stood, trembling, staring around the tiny gritty apartment she had called home for the last seventeen years of her life. Fear should have been gripping her heart but anger was the only emotion coursing through her body. This shitty hovel with walls so thin she could hear the tweakers fight and fart next door was the only home she had known but after tonite she knew she had to go.

She had excused every wretched thing he had done to her up until this point. She let his insults toughen her skin, wore her bruises like badges, cleaned up any mess he made and built herself up after every time he knocked her down. But this? This she could not forgive.

Unfortunately she could hear his drunken snoring from the bedroom and her anger refocused. Her eyes were drawn to the burnt papers and ashes awkwardly piled in the middle of the living room. Her art, her refuge, her only saving grace, he decided to burn for fun amidst her cries of protest. Then he beat the shit out of her until she agreed to clean up the mess. Grace had swept it into a neat pile but could not bring herself to push it into the dustpan. These ashes were her work, her life, her happiness. She found it oddly fitting that they stay tattered and prominent, a monument dedicated to why she should never return.

The pale stained mint colored suit case was packed with the few possessions she had. She divided the little monies she earned from waitressing between her socks and her jean pockets.

She had to go.

Her fingers caressed the door handle allowing herself one last glance of the hellhole she had called home. It was time to go. Opening the door she
headed into the night. She did not know where she was going but knew it had to be better than here.

Today's blog has been a Sunday Confession about fart (yes you read it right FART) hosted by the one and only More Than Cheese And Beer. If you have a blog please link up.




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