Given the choice between an unhappy ending, and no ending at all, I run. Sometimes, I can only run as far as my feet will take me, and it turns out my feet will only take me as far as Grace Community Hospital just off of Emerald Street. The good news is that George will never find me in a hospital. The bad news is that I have a broken leg and I am sitting in the ER line at 9:15pm on a Tuesday and naturally there only seems to be one qualified physician here. Isn’t that the way it always goes?
I already wonder if losing George is such a good thing. After all, his children need a mother and I need a roof over my head, but when I told that-guy-I-met-at-the-bar-a-few-times that I would move in with him, becoming a suburban housewife wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. If I wanted that, I would have married the guy. Believe you me, George is not marrying material. For starters, his nose is too big. I just can’t get past that. And he snores like a bear. Not to mention he leaves his dirty laundry all over the house, and then I’m usually the one who puts in for rent because he calls in sick at least once a week. I swear, his employers over at Bayfield Construction must think he is some kind of invalid, by the way he calls out all the time.
Then there are his kids. Eva is the youngest, the sweetest little six-year-old girl you ever met, if you can get past the fact her mother used to buy her everything. I think that if Eva wanted the moon, George’s dead wife would have put in a bid. Then there’s Jack, who is a nightmare. Thirteen, tall and lanky and moody, Jack, I think, is the perfect example of the unappreciative American teenager. It’s Jack’s fault that George tried to kill me, too. If he just kept his goddamn mouth shut, I wouldn’t be here.
You know, I’m a trooper. I walked a fucking mile on this broken leg to get here. In the woods.
Listen, I know you think I’m being overdramatic, but the next time your boyfriend pulls a hunting rifle on you because he finds out you are sleeping with the neighbor and tells you that you have five minutes to get a head start because he wants a good hunt… the next time that happens to you, don’t you come running to me, because it’s not all fun and games.
Jill Walker? Did they say Jill Walker? They did. Well, that’s me. Thanks for listening, whoever you are. I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again. As soon as I get this leg patched up, I’m getting into a car and driving it until I crash into the horizon.
Prompt: To polish my writing tools and step out of my comfort zone. First person present is my least favorite perspective to write in, although most of my friends prefer it. So now I’ve tried it, and I think I will happily stick to my third person past tense. 🙂
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