She was kept. Locked away. Stored for safe keeping like money in a vault. Only he had the combination.
There were many attempts to get out. Seemed as though every time he turned around she was up to something. Pills, blades, bullets, they all crossed her mind. Some kind of relief. She begged him and begged him and begged him for the code. He just sat there. Watching Johnnny Carson. Laughing at Charo and her thick Spanish accent. He paid no attention to her.
One night she decided she’d run away. Leave him. Leave…this. She walked out the door. Onto the cool wet grass in her bare feet. She kept walking. Passed the drug store, bars, churches where people sought salvation. Walked out to the edge of town where the two rivers meet. And, she did not stop. She did not stop.