Free Safe and Sound by Lindy Zart

waste. What a waste of an existence. This wa s what she was supposed to have for a life?
      “Please, Lola. Are you okay?” Her mother sounded tired. Not really worried, not really upset; just tired.
      Help me, Mom. Please. Please, help me.
      Lola worked to steady her breathing, dashed a hand over her wet eyes, and said, “I’ m.. . fine. ” She couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice, the crack from sounding at the end of her words.
      I’m not fine. You know I’m not fine. Show me you care. Show me I still mean something to you. Fight, Mom, fight for us. Fight for me . I’m your daughter! Why won’t you fight for me?
      It wasn’t long before her mom said, “Okay,” and the sound of her light footsteps went down the hall.
      Lola stared at the white wall above the toilet for a long time , resolution finally straightening her spine. So that was it then. Her mother was gone. She wouldn’t help; she couldn’t help. And Lola couldn’ t help her either, not if she didn’t want help.
      No one could help Lola but herself.
      Lola had to do something. Lola couldn’t keep living th is way. No more. She wasn’t going to take it anymore. Her jaw clenched. Lola wasn’t going to give him the chance to rape her. Never.
      She slowly got to her feet and walked to the mirror above the sink. Lola stared at the haunted girl with fire in her eyes and told her to be strong, to be brave , to do what she had to do .
      Lola took a quick shower, not able to stand the lingering odor of his sweat and body odor on her flesh, scrubbing her skin until it was pink. She tightly wrapped a towel around her and listened, not hearing any sounds outside the door.
      She cracked open the bathroom door. It was quiet in the house. Maybe Bob had left. Maybe her mom had gone with him. She didn’t even care anymore.
      Cold determination propelled her to her room. Lola hastily threw on some clothes, not looking at what she grabbed from her dresser.
      She didn’t think; she just acted.
      Lola looked around for something to barricade the door with for her last night in the house . The only thing feasible was her dresser. It took all her strength and anger to get that heavy wood dresser across the room and in front of the door, but she did it.
      She grabbed a duffel bag from under her bed and shoved clothes into it. She would go to the bank tomorrow, get her savings, and get out of Morgan Creek.
      Lola didn’t even know how she would, but Lola was determined to find a way. There were no cabs, no buses. Hitchhike then. Walk. Anything. She didn’t know where she would go or what she would do; she just knew she had to leave.
      What about Jack?
      Lola shoved hi m from her mind and the pain that cam e along with the knowledge she may never see hi m again. No goodbye to her past, no goodbye to her present; only a clear path to the future. That’s all she could afford to focus on. Otherwise she would break down and cry, be weak, stay with her mother because of all she used to be and not what she was now , and endure.
      No. She refused.
      Lola packed her writing and a framed photograph of her mother and father holding her when she was one year old. Lola put a hand to her mouth as she traced their images with her eyes. That was her family. And it didn’t exist anymore.
      I’m leaving. I’m leaving you, Mother, and I’m not coming back.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    6
     
      Lola spent the night wide-eyed and jumpy, ears trained to hear every whisper of movement; eyes searching the dark for a predator that wasn’t there. She periodically dozed off, but continually shook herself awake. It was a long night.
      She got up when she heard them return from work early in the morning . Lola quietly dressed in a pink top and faded jeans. She looked over her room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything she needed. She stood there, sorrow her companion. Was she doing the right thing?