They always take so much from us.

Those evil, unseen creatures that lurk in the clouds of hope.

They rain down on us when we least expect it.

Life and Love.

We are all self-indulgent jackasses wanting to

feel that connection with someone, believing some stranger will give us the dream of being eternally happy.

The blistering warmth of thinking of someone.

The colliding pheromones that explode within our senses when we touch that person who ignites our primordial fire.

We waltz down the street of dreams only to be run over by the speeding car of life.

It's better to blame that little fat ass cupid and the silent

devil's advocate called fate. The battles that rage in my

mind wear me down, but I refuse to surrender to them.

I do not want to give in to the enemy.

Yeah.

The enemy within.

The enemy is me.

Myself.

We all are our own worst enemy.

It dwells inside all of us, but the trigger isn't pulled

in the beginning. We think we hear the firing shot,

and we take off full speed.

Running, and running we do not stop.

We must fall, and then that is when we

realize what happened. We hear it.

The firing shot.

We realize that we only hear it at the end, not

the beginning.

We want to hear it at the beginning and

fool ourselves into thinking we did. So

here I am.

At the end.

I am also, truthfully, at the beginning.

My name is Angela.

I left my house and kids to chase a dream.

There were the nightmares I had to escape too.

The thoughts I had were keeping awake at night

and I could not deal with my own reality anymore,

so I decided to leave. My twisted common sense

told me that If I were not around, the problems I had

would not affect my kids, but I wanted to inflict some

pain toward my husband, so the kids were

unfortunately left behind as collateral damage.

I am sorry kids. I really am.

I f I left him with the kids and all the associated

difficulties of being a full-time mother then he

would realize that life is not very fair at all,

especially for me.

I married young, had five kids before I was thirty, and

a husband that was indifferent to my needs and

desires.

It was 3:30 in the morning.

I grabbed the car keys and silently left the house and

kissed my kid's goodbye. My husband had fresh

pack of cigarettes laying on the counter, so I grabbed

those and jammed them into my pants pocket. I

grabbed a bottle of vodka that was � full and walked

out the door.

Once outside, I closed my eyes and breathed in

a dose of sweet midnight air.

The neighbor's dog barked once and trotted over

to me and sniffed pocket where I had placed the

cigarette then followed me to car. Damn Dog.

The coolness of the evening air made the door

handle slippery. It felt like I was grabbing a halfmelted popsicle. My hand slipped when I lifted

the handle and it snapped back down and the

dog barked again, but this time twice. I

I patted him gently on his head while shushing him.

He just nominated himself as my traveling partner.

I turned my palm upward and slid it under his collar

as I carefully kept a good grip on it and firmly lifted

the door handle, opened the door, and guided Sir

Barks A lot into the car. He sat there looking at me

with an expression that said: "Are you going to join

me, or what? Get in here!"

One thing good about electric cars, they're quiet.

I backed out of the driveway, stopped for a moment,

and looked at the house. It was completely dark.

Nobody heard the dog barking. I looked at

the dog and gave him a thumbs up and gently

grabbed his jaw and told him that he almost

blew our cover.

The moment I let go, he barked, of course.

I drove away.

I rolled the windows down.

This was the exact moment I longed for.

The road was in front of me, the exit signs passed.

The only thing I was aiming for was the Horizon.

No feelings of guilt.

Freedom is its own reward and has its own taste.

When I finally stopped driving the Sun was just

starting its morning gig while the Moon

reluctantly disappeared.

It's amazing how Vodka, Van Morrison and

cigarettes can propel a person through the night

while wiping away any debilitating thoughts or

feelings.

I was no longer a captive.

The life I wanted was going to begin today.

I pulled into a Motel and checked in.

Once inside the room, I flopped down on the bed

and stared at the ceiling.

I closed my eyes.

And there it was.

Silence.

No sound.

No screaming kids. No mouthy husband.

Nothing.

This was the sound of freedom.

I let my mind wander and fell asleep.

I awoke with Sir Barks A lot licking my hand.

He must have been trying to tell me that it

was time to wake up and feed him. Needy.

Just like a man.

At least he didn't talk.

I walked outside with my traveling companion,

and we drove to a store. I picked up some chow

for him, more booze for me and another pack of

cigarettes and some peppermints.

By the time I got back to the Motel It was 10:00.

Well, the kids are up by now, and are asking

where mommy is and my husband realizes that

the car is gone, and so am I.

I fed the dog and lit a cigarette.

I stepped outside to smoke it, and I noticed a

police car parked at the office. I stared the

officer as she spoke with the manager inside the

office. A feeling of paranoia gripped me and

teasingly shook me.

Were they talking about me?

I took one long drag from my cigarette and

pinched the end of it as I nervously glanced at the

conversation taking place in the officer with the

officer and manager. They both stepped outside.

The manger pointed up tin the direction of the

second floor to where I was standing. The officer

looked at me then looked back at the Manager.

The manger gave a quick nod, and I watched the

officer walk toward my section of the Motel. I turned

around and walked back inside and sat on the edge

of the bed.

There it was again.

Silence.

This time it was making me extremely nervous.

The dog had fallen asleep and was oblivious to

my anxious behavior. His world was only different

because he was sleeping on a different bed.

My world was different because I chose to fuck

it up.

I closed my eyes.

Still silent.

My heart suddenly jumped.

The sound of knuckles banging on a door.

My nerves swelled up in my neck.

I swallowed and it felt like I dislodged a golf ball.

The pain was unreal.

I stood up and walked toward the door as the

powerful, demanding sound of the police officer

could be heard.

I placed my sweaty had on the handle as I

heard the officer shouting out an order to open

the door immediately. All I could think of was

how did this happen so fast?

I sighed heavily and could fee that proverbial

crocodile tear roll down my face as I sniffled and

slowly opened the door and looked outside.

There wasn't an officer in front of me.

I looked to my left.

She was knocking on the door next to my room.

She looked at me for just a second and told me

to go back inside.

The moment she spoke I was already in retreat.

There is something about a second taste of

freedom that tastes even better than the first.

As I locked the door, I could hear the person next

door arguing with the officer for a few moments,

but then they became quiet.

I was not about to get curious and look outside the

door, but I did plant my ear up next to the wall and

listened to what might be happening. I could hear

their voices.

It sounded more casual than it did at first, so I

backed away from the wall, headed toward my

bathroom, and flipped the drain lever up and

turned on the hot water.

I grabbed my bottle of vodka and a cigarette

and prepared myself for a relaxing soak.

Slipping into the warm water, I let my head rest on

the rolled-up towel and smoked a cigarette while

staring at the faucet as it steadily dripped.

There was something hypnotic about this.

It was like watching an endurance test

between my cigarette and faucet. The

faucet won.

I drowned the cigarette and then flicked it out into

the other room where the dog was. He came

over and sniffed it then looked over at me like I

had played a trick on him then walked away.

I grabbed the bottle of vodka and started drinking.

The warm water and booze were a perfect

combination.

Life was good, and all it took was

a midnight escape.

My body felt like warm Jell-O.

I was groggy and was feeble. I turned to one side

and placed both hands on the side of the bathtub

to prop myself up. As I stood there naked and

bent over, I felt the urge to throw up, but it

quickly retreated into my stomach, blazing a foul

trail as it did.

It gave me my third taste of freedom.

I was completely naked and staggered out of

the bathroom and teetered over to the bed and

could see the dog giving me another one of his

condescending looks.

The bag of peppermints smelled so good to me,

but I was so oozy inside I could not even attempt

to lift my head to try and look to see where they

were.

Vertigo was hitting me with both hands.

It wanted to slap me so hard if I tried to move in

any direction, so I closed my eyes and very, very

slowly and haphazardly felt around for the little

bag of mints until I managed to pinch the edge of

the bag with my index finger and thumb and then

sat them down next to me.

My movement was minimal, but if I cracked

open my eye's things would begin swirling. I laid

there for a while until the booze wore off.

Once the warm, oozy feeling subsided I opened

the bag of mints and popped a couple of them

into my mouth and savored the refreshing sweet,

and hot sensation that blended quite well with

the lingering residue of the booze.

This bed was becoming my best friend.

The Motel was my temporary fortress of solitude.

I lay there petting my furry, four-legged

companion that I dog napped, and basked in the

comfort of newfound peace.

My world was suddenly new.

The old me does not exist.

Tomorrow I'll be on the road, and I will not look

back at today or think about the future.

My future is un-written, and for once and all I

can tell myself:

The battles are settled.

The End