The One Chance
The First Week
I'd arrived in Miami on Sunday
afternoon, slept until early
Monday morning and went to
find a job, any job, in walking
distance of the hotel.
Luck was with me. Luck had
been with me, and I feared it
would run out. I was not
expecting any more 'passes'.
I hadn't planned on using Diana Lopez as my name, it just kind of happened. It was a good choice as there was no link between me and that name.
Further, I had no papers and it wasn't a problem in Miami where a lot of people had no papers.
I moved from my single at the hotel to one with a kitchenette. I was not ready to call this cell 'home' . Until the time I knew who and where I was the word 'roots' was not to be used.
In The Room
Later that evening, I sat by the window,
looking out, looking in.
I assume after the first few days
my husband might have gone to
the police, although I wasn't all
that sure about it.
To do so was admitting he'd lost, and he would never do that. He would search for me, perhaps thinking I was with some friend he had chased early in our relationship.
He'd been very successful at chasing my friends away.
I had never mentioned Miami to him, it had never come up. Perhaps I was safe; as long as I didn't contact anyone.
I wanted to contact someone, anyone, because I was so incredibly alone. But I controlled myself.
My eyes began moving around the room. Window, fridge, ledge, microwave, bed, bathroom, table, chair, ledge, window, around and around, as my heart pounded.
Thoughts jumbled through my mind, my husband loved me, no man would ever love me, I shouldn't have left him, no, I had to, no, I didn't, my home, I left my home, no, not my home, window, fridge, ledge, microwave, bed, bathroom, table, chair, ledge, window...
I couldn't breath, I had to get out...and I ran to the door, opened it into an empty corridor, and didn't want to dare it.
It was not yet ten a.m. and I felt I'd been up for fourteen hours and couldn't see how I'd get through the next hour.
And I realised; this is madness, this is how it happens. I can't let it happen to me.
I put on my shoes, I went to the door, took the key, went onto the street, walking ten blocks in a direction I had not visited as if I was a tourist. There must be something to anchor me here. Something.
I can't do this.
I have to do this.
I can do this.
I will do this.
I will go to work tomorrow. I will be Diana Lopez. I will get through one more week. I will get through today. I will live today.