I looked out over the gulf. The sea was a tranquil shade of blue green. It was lovely.
I’ve owned this piece of property for about five years now. I ran away from an abusive husband, changed my name, changed my hair, and now I work from home. My groceries are delivered.
I’ve become accustomed to the solitude. It’s very sad, but very fulfilling in knowing that you won’t get the crap beat out of you, spend hours in an emergency room or looking up how to fix yourself up on your own online.
I still have that fear that he will find me though. At first, when I made that initial attempt to leave, leaving him just wasn’t good enough. I had to get restraining orders, and they did little.
So I disappeared. My parents gave me the cash. No paper trail to me. They were glad I was finally getting away from him, but sad in the fact that I was breaking off all communication with them, and everyone else I ever knew, to ensure my own safety.
Five years. Alone. No family, no friends.
If I pick up a seashell and hold it to me ear, I can almost hear what the real world sounds like. That’s why I don’t hold seashells up to my ear.