New life, New love

A Story by Hannah Barwig

Unfinished, just a beginning with a good ending to come

Boarding time has come. "Last call for midnight flight to Bakersville, North Carolina." Here was my last chance to flee. All my life decisions have come up to this point. I start to have doubts about this, "should I go?" "Is this really what I want to do?" As these final thoughts race through my head, I board. There's no turning back now, I am starting my new life.
When I was born, my parents weren't doing the best. They fought constantly, fighting about every last thing they could think of. My dad took his anger out with drinking. While he was drunk, he was violent. Several times as a small child, maybe 3 or 4, my dad hit me. I wouldn't say he just hit me, sometimes he beat me, I had bruises all over my body. My mom never did anything to change it. She never talked much around my father, he hit her too. For years this carried on, when I started kindergarten at age 5 my teacher started to worry. She saw these unexplained bruises all over my body and I would never have anything to say about them. My teacher Mrs. Bailey was worried and called child protective services. They stopped by on a Tuesday afternoon, right after my dad got home drunk, again, from work. It took one look at him to realize I wasn't fit to live in my home anymore. I was put into one of the cars out front, my mom just stood there, emotionless, as if her daughter being taken from her didn't matter at all. Then we drove off.
"Hi Jennifer, my name is Dave, how was your day today?" I remained silent. What was I supposed to say? I was 6 and just ripped from my parents. The rest of the car ride was in silence. We arrived at this big building, I didn't know what it was but he brought me inside. Dave disappeared behind a big desk while I sat in this room with a TV going and few toys to play with. Maybe an hour later he came back and said we were going to my grandma's house. I've never met my grandma before. The ride seemed to take forever. When we arrived my grandma was out front waiting. She greeted me at the car and we went inside.
My grandma took care of me for years to come. She made sure to ask how my day was everyday, she never drank, she always talked to me and helped with my homework when I needed it. For 10 years she took care of me but one day she got very sick. The doctors said she had stage 3 lung cancer and only had a few months to live. On September 8th, 2013 she died. Her funeral was several days later and Dave was there. He said he would be by tomorrow to pick me and my things up.
I went home that night and packed a suit case of my necessities. I grabbed some cash from my grandma's cookie jar lid and took off. I waved down a cab and paid for a ride to the airport. The first flight I saw was a midnight flight to Bakersville and I bought a ticket for it. Since I was 16 at the time, no questions were asked, thankfully.
The plane was silent. All I focused on was the thoughts rushing through my head, thinking about what I just did. I hear the flight attendants give their instructions in the background, different flight, same rules. Here I am, on a plane, going to a town I know nothing about and I don't know where to go when I get there. An older couple across the isle gave me weird looks the whole ride, as if they were wondering what me, a 16 year old, was doing on a plane at 12 o'clock at night by myself. I didn't know either. When the seat belt sign clicked off I quickly went to the bathroom. I need to clear my head, and gather my thoughts. It was all too much to process at once. Once I felt my anxiety slow down, I returned to my seat. The trip from Detroit to Bakersville seemed quick. I barely had enough time to create a game plan for what to do when we land.
Being a minor, I was the first to exit the plane. I followed the signs to the luggage claim where I waited for my bag to come down on the conveyor belt. I picked up my bag and continued on my way to find some help. I needed somewhere to rest, just for the night, so I could figure something out in the morning. The women at the help desk gave me directions to a shelter down the street where I could stay for the night. The walk was cold and lonely. The nightly fall winds have started and they made the walk difficult.
When I arrived at the shelter, it was packed bed to bed with homeless men and women. Some sick, some begging you for money as you walk by. I spotted an empty bed in the corner, where I settled in for the night. I quickly dosed off. Day seemed to come quickly. Around 8 am the shelter became loud as people were leaving. I tried finding a volunteer who could help me find somewhere hiring. "There's a small diner on highway 226 called Bonnie & Clyde's. Would you like me to call you a taxi?" "Yes. Thank you very much."
The cab came in about fifteen minutes and when it pulled up I was waiting, with my luggage in hand. Here's my first step to a new beginning. "Where to?" Said the cab driver, with a tone as if he thought I was another deilquint teenager. "To Bonnie and Cylde's on highway 226 please, sir." The drive was fairly quiet. Only hearing the occasional honks and his frequent use of profanity to other drivers. My fair for the drive wasn't much, $25 with a small tip. I grabbed my luggage and he quickly sped away.
When I walked into the diner, it seemed smaller than it looked. There was a small kitchen and a hand full of tables along with four booths. "What can I get for you?" Asked this young women who's name tag said Rebecca. "An application and a muffin, please." She quickly left and maybe thirty seconds later she returned with my things. "So are you from around here?" She asked curiously. "I just got into town last night, just looking for somewhere to start." Before I got a chance to even pick up a pen to start my application she blurts out "Can you start today?" "Yes ma'am. Thank you."
As she showed me around the kitchen, she went on about her life. She bought the diner a few years ago when she was trying to start fresh, so that means we have something in common. "The people in this town are very kind and helpful." She said as she's running around getting orders while giving me the feel for how things happen around here.
"I'll start you on dishes today and ease you into other things." Which was good, I've never done well with keeping a conversation with people anyways. She closed the diner at around 5 in the afternoon. She asked if I had anywhere go, she offered me to stay with her. Sensibly I took the offer and we got into her pickup truck and I threw my suitcase into the cab. She lived about ten minutes away, it got me a chance to see a little more of the town. There's such beautiful scenery here, with the mountains view from most places in town, it was the perfect place to live.
We pulled up to this beautiful home surround by nothing but trees and mountain. The view was just breathtaking. I've never seen a house so nice. "You can stay in the room right over here." She spoke so fast and excitedly I could barely catch on. "I can't thank you enough for inviting me into your house." My grandma made sure to teach me to always use manners when people are kind to you. My room was fairly big. There was a nice bed, nicer than I've ever had, a dresser, and TV, my own TV.
After I got settled in and showered, Rebecca knocked on my door. "Dinner's ready when you want it." I am so thankful for such a great friend my first day in town. I found my way to the kitchen where she prepared spaghetti with some garlic bread. "This spaghetti is delicious." I mentioned between bites. She chuckled, "thank you, it's my moms recipe." "Wow your mom is great." I said while still piling it into my mouth. "She was the best." As me being curious I had to ask, "where is she now?" "Well she died about ten years ago, in combat in Iraq." She got up to clear the dishes, so I helped. "My brother joined the army because he wanted to keep my mother's legacy alive, he'll return in December."
The next two months moved quickly. Rebecca and I were still roommates. At the diner, I started serving tables and meeting the people of this town. I was able to save up a little money to buy a truck from one of the neighbors.

© 2015 Hannah Barwig

Author's Note

It's not finished and if more is wanted then more will come soon. No negative comments, only positive help.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Reviews

Coyote Poetry

I enjoyed the story. I wanted to know more. You create interesting and hard life. To lose someone to war and to try to stay strong and focus. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote