Monday, March 21, 2011


Cynthia let the hot water from the shower pour over her face, running her fingers through her hair and crossing her arms to grab on to the back of her shoulders; reassuring herself she was still there. That afternoon had been the last time. It was over. She was gone. She'd somehow found it within herself to leave. Johnny had never drawn blood. He’d never left a visible bruise on her. It wasn’t abuse according to any law enforcement or government agencies; it was just that same sort of hurt she knew millions of other women understood that left her all alone. Scared to stay and even more scared to leave. And then one day it just happened. Cynthia wasn’t even sure exactly what changed, but it was suddenly all so clear. She didn’t think twice about it, Cynthia just walked out the door. She never turned back and she never stopped walking. 19 March 2011 awgryphon© photo

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