Thursday 11 June 2015

MWBB - Untraceable

This is an entry to Mid-Week Blues-Buster from last week. I didn't have time to post it as I was busy at a writing event in Nottingham. Although it wasn't placed, I really liked it. I hope you do.

Prompt song:  “Freedom”, by Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boynton.

Belinda looked out the open window, across the vast expanse of land and leaned back, stretching her back. She surveyed all she had packed so far. The tiny backpack had all the essentials.

It would be a while before anyone would notice she’d gone; the kids were going to their grandma after school under the guise of an appointment, so she had a few hours head start, and that was plenty for what she had in mind.

She’d spent the first couple of hours of the morning shutting everything; deactivating social media, deleting mail accounts, diverting information that he might need to their home email, and then switching funds around in the banks – emptying hers.

She’d laid all the bank and insurance cards out on the dining table, so he couldn’t miss them – hers and the kids. And left the keys to the house and the car, everything, so there was nothing he had to track her down.

Her stomach clenched at the thought, but she pushed it away and took another deep breath; if she let the thoughts in she wouldn’t be able to go, and it wasn’t an option anymore.

She’d seen the signals; the slightly coincidental non-coincidences that others missed. And then the signs had started to appear; first in the kids chalk drawings in the pavement, and then in the ever changing fridge magnets. It was time to go.

She ran through everything in her mind, hoping she hadn’t missed anything. She had to be untraceable, there had to be no leads.  She had to walk away with not one single tie – other than DNA.

She squeezed her eyes tight shut for a second, swallowing hard. They’d be okay as long as she went. That was the deal.

She saw the bus in the distance, and walked out the front door, making sure it was firmly closed behind her. She strolled casually to the stop and stepped up onto the bus when it arrived.

Belinda looked out the back window at her little house, and the little life she was leaving behind. She had to keep moving, that was the price she paid for her freedom. And although they’d never know it, she sought comfort in the fact that she was giving them their freedom too. 


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