Prison Break

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 26, 2017

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Submitted: September 26, 2017

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Prison Break

A few years back I moved North. In my forties hoping once again that this would be the one. The entire thing was odd. He lived with his elderly and terminally miserable mother. I thought he was kind until I realized the truths behind the seemingly caring gestures. After a year or so of driving and helping; he asked me that question. Even then it felt odd. Wasn’t a diamond but unique in its own way. After a weekend of cheering him on and nearly ready to call it quits; he got down on bended knee. In retrospect, I think he knew I was about to go. A few months later I packed my things and moved. The house was older and out of shape. In good need of a painting and bleaching of the floors. For months that is what I did because that is how I like to live. While I was sweating,driving, painting and cleaning; he was just smiling and biking. At first I thought it was the new sense of freedom he was experiencing. The burden of tolerating his mom had lifted with her passing . The truth was that the confinement she had mandated for him turned into my prison as well. The difference was that I broke away. I am not sure if he ever has.


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