I'm a mother and sometimes it can be overwhelming. What if I just got up one day and left? I never could, but this character does. Why does she feel she had to leave and will she go back?
I left on Saturday in the morning not long after they had gone out. I stuffed essentials into a backpack; clothes, shoes, make-up, toiletries, passport, my favourite books, everything I held dear. Even the photo books I had created.
I spent long minutes running my hands over the warm sheets in the little beds, could hear the snuffles and snorts of the children - my children - in my head as I traced their small indents. I held a toy or two and let the tears fall. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. In less than thirty minutes from the time my husband took the kids out for the morning I packed and left like a thief.
I drove for hours, through the bright morning until the sun was hot and high. They would be back now. After a quick study he’d think maybe I’d gone for a little drive or shopping. I’d left my cell-phone behind. He’d soon realise I wasn’t coming back.
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