She sits hearing the knockin on the door, frozen in fear, she thinks out her strategy,
If the door is to open and the wrong facial expression or the wrong attitude or attire is confronted there is no winning the game that is at hand.
Where this started and why is still unknown, and what happened that motivated the sudden shift in feelings from adulation and love to spite, hate and a loathsome disrespect, is still playing on an endless loop through her head as she searches for an answer.
He has all the excuses except the one that means anything, that sleeps deep inside, that he’s hidden in all the beatings he’s received in the past, lumping together everyone and anyone who even dares to breach the solitary wall he has built around him.
There is no hope at this moment, it will take patience, time and a spiritual unselfish understanding without denial for him dig himself out, time of course is not what she has.
The window is open, the street only inches below, bags are packed and she sits listening to the knocking and voices she has buried under the thick skin protecting her like armor.
Like a dog chained to a fence post, she contemplates the unimaginable, then buries her teeth deep into her flesh and rips away the heart of her world and flees into the night, never ever looking back.