The (W)rite of Passage challenge for this week is a character observation made into a short story. And boy, do I LOVE to write short stories!! I’m writing about a very disheveled woman I saw at Target a few days ago. This is what I imagine must be her story, which explains the state her appearance was in.

She checked her reflection in the rear view mirror. She blushed, ashamed when she saw how wild her hair looked and how dark the circles were. But what did she expect, really? She hadn’t slept or bathed in days. God, how awful she must smell. Like her dad used to say, it’s a good thing a skunk can’t smell it’s own odor. She stifled back the beginning of a sob.

She heard her daughter stirring in the back seat. Looking over her shoulder, she faked a smile and greeted her child warmly, taking in the painfully obvious fact that she needed a bath something fierce.

What a trooper, she thought. Her precious angel. She didn’t utter a complaint about not going back home. She accepted the explanation that they couldn’t stay in that house another moment without question. Completely trusting her Mother to keep her safe. Her heart melted a little when her daughter opened her eyes and smiled back at her. We will be fine, she thought, we have each other.

They had spent the last few nights sleeping in Target’s parking lot. The only home they had was the car they escaped their nightmare in. Her nightmare. And living in this car, where they were safe from his anger, was better than the situation they left. Thankfully and surprisingly they hadn’t been caught yet. Because trespassing and loitering are crimes that they were sadly guilty of. They were circumstances that, at this point, were beyond their control.

They fled their home with only the clothes on their back, her purse and the keys to her 12 year old shitpile on wheels. With no family in the area and not enough money to spend on gas or the proper documents to get to Vancouver where some of her family lived, she chose to stay in the area. It allowed her to keep her 5 year old daughter in kindergarten during the day while she would sneak into the house to take a few things while he was at work.

The car was beginning to pile up with stuff. Junk. Clothes, blankets, objects that she hoped he wouldn’t notice were missing. But what she really needed was to get into their bank account. Her own account was rapidly diminishing. The couple hundred bucks she had been saving was almost gone between gas and the McDonalds play area where they would spend their evenings until it was time to get her daughter to sleep.

Target was where they started their day. Sneaking into the bathroom by the front door, to brush teeth and wash up a bit before school started. They would drive through the McDonalds that was in the Target parking lot where she would get a coffee for herself and for her daughter, a sausage McMuffin. Then, off to school.

Every morning, while her daughter was safe in her classroom, she would head over to the house. Always holding her breath as she approached it. She didn’t think she would survive a run-in with him. He was probably pissed as hell that she left. And he was not the forgiving type. She knew without any doubt that if she were in the house with him alone, she would end up leaving in a body bag. That is, if her body was ever found. Yeah, he was that scary. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had enough. It was only a matter of time before he started using her daughter as a punching bag too. He sure had threatened it enough times while beating the shit out of her.

She would not let that man touch her daughter. She would not let anyone touch her daughter. They’d have to go through her first.

But this was the beginnings of a new life. She would find a way to make some money to get them a little place of their own. But goddammit, she needed to get into their bank account. If he hadn’t frozen her out of it when he realized she had left, it would have been fine. If only she had known she was going to leave, she would have taken some money out. Oh well, coulda, shoulda.

She grabbed some more of their clothes and some of her other possessions and hurried out of the house. It always gave her anxiety, even when she still lived there.

Backing out of the driveway, she headed back to the only place she could think of going. Target.

Today she would go in, she decided. Today, she would buy her daughter a little doll. She deserved it.

Smoothing her wild hair and wrapping her scarf around her face so only her nose and eyes showed, she went in, making eye contact with a woman with beautiful curly hair who was grabbing a cart and looking rather discombobulated. The woman looked at her and smiled. She pulled her scarf down to expose her face and she smiled back. Just that gesture. The warmth of a strangers’ smile. It filled her with a sense of hope because she realized that she wasn’t invisible after all.

She went off to find a doll for her daughter while beginning to formulate a small game plan in her mind. Knowing that, no matter what, they would end up fine. Because they were together. They were safe. They were free of him.

She walked by the home decor section, passing a mirror display. She took in how wild her hair looked. She saw, in the bright store light, how deep and dark the circles were. But she also noticed, for the first time in a long time, that black cloud around her had lightened.

And so did her whole soul.

She pushed her cart onward.

They were going to be fine. She was sure of it.