Little One

Run Away, And Don't Look Back.

"Hey, little one. I know you don't even have your eyes yet, but I want you to know...I'm here for you. Always have been, and always will."

                  ______________

You know those months where you're making an actual human being? You fall in love with it. You love the idea of being a mother, maybe you don't show it...But you can't hide it.

That's what my mother was like. She loved the idea of giving birth to me. She was a real good home for 9 months. Even better at raising me. She taught me, "If you ever get unexpectedly pregnant, love that child. That little baby boy or girl is a part of you now. Cherish it."

That is and still is my favorite quote. I lived by that. So, when I was in a relationship at 22 with a guy named Josh, things were getting serious. I moved into his house in Roseville, Illinois and I wanted to marry him. I wanted to have his kids and live a happily ever after that i always wished for. But, after a year of living together, it got...chaotic.

He never came home at night. When he did, his hair would be messy and his clothes were all mismatched. I still loved him, though.

One night, he came home. Drunk off his ass with red lipstick on his cheeks. That set me off and the fight that we had...that was frightening. He threw his beer bottle at the ground and his eyes - I will never forget those. They were filled with true, pure hatred. I knew in those few moments, it was time to leave. Get the hell out. I never even thought about packing a bag. The yelling was too much for me. As I grabbed the door knob, he pulled my hair and turned me around.

"You will be back, Margo. You can't deny it."

I slapped him as he finished his sentence. I turned around and slammed the cracked, old wooden door. With tears running down my face, I get in my 2009 Chevy Malibu and cried out all the anger, all the sadness, that he put me through during our relationship. I hit the steering wheel as i get mad at myself for even thinking about that dirty, rotten, Mcdonald's hamburger.

I started to put the key in the car. Hands trembling. Tears falling. My body screaming.

"Go," I say to myself, "Go!"

But i don't. I just turn my head to the right and looked at the dim lights of the 1930s house that we lived in. I took a deep breath and tried to not think of the good times to sike myself out and run right back into his arms.

"C'mon, Margo. You can do this."

I put the gear in drive and drove away from the house that i spent years in.

As i was driving, i picked up my Iphone 5c and called Mia, my friend of 10 years. Mia and i met in our sophomore year of high school. She had just moved from San Diego, and i thought she was the baddest bitch in the town. She showed up in black skinny jeans with 2-inch holes in the thighs and a white sweater crop on her first day. That was against the school's dress code but she didn't care. She is one tough cookie.

When i called her, it went straight to voicemail. That usually happens with this old phone even if the person who i'm calling phone's isn't dead. So i tried again and after a few rings, she answered.

Mia sounded dazed and hungover. I told her over and over again to not drink in the morning. If she does, she takes a long ass nap and wakes up 8 hours later confused as hell. But, i guess she didn't hear me those times.

"Hey, Mia. Uh- I was wondering if i could spend the night?"

"Um- yeah. Why?" Mia asked.