Set me free

Nancy

“Is this serious, mom? Are you seriously going to leave Dad and me and go away?” asked my son as soon as he entered the room. I was packing my suitcase to leave. 

“Oh, son,” I said, going over to him and hugging him tightly. “I'm sorry you're facing this difficult time. I'm really sorry, my dear…”

“You don’t have to leave, Mom,” he pleaded. “Stay with us.”

“Unfortunately, I have to go,” I said to him, caressing his face. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone?” He asked. 

I shook my head, feeling my saddened heart. “You can come with me, Peter,” I suggested, and he moved away from me. 

"No! You have to stay here and not leave. Do not be selfish. Who will take care of me? It’s not fair for a mother to abandon her child,” he said, and I felt accusation in his words. 

“It was your father who told you to say those things, right?” I asked, stepping back. 

“Yes, and he is right, but you still want to leave me alone here. I hope you suffer, you bitch!” he shouted and ran out of the room. 

Bruce was so short. Was he really using a child's emotions to make me stay? I wiped my tears and went back to packing my suitcase. It was his fault that my son no longer respected me or obeyed me; he kept teaching his son crap, and now Peter was an uneducated child no matter how much I tried to change that, but when you are in a family like this where men have already they got used to stepping on women, nothing more could be done. As sad as it was to have to leave my son behind, even that wouldn't stop me from leaving. 

“What’s your problem, woman? Seriously,” said Bruce, entering the room. “Are you such a bad mother that you don’t mind leaving your children crying?”

“Stop bringing our kids into this, Bruce. By doing this, you only make me angrier,” I said, zipping my suitcase, but he grabbed my arm. 

“Do you really think I’m going to let you walk away from here, you whore?” He asked with harsh words. 

"Let me go!" I ordered, breaking away from him. “Stay away from me; I hate you!”

He chuckled in disbelief at seeing so much hatred in my eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Nancy. What did I do so wrong for you to create all this unbearable drama? Yes, I went to bed with another woman, so what? It's not like you are in a position to please me,” he said, looking down at my body and wanting to put me down. 

I slapped him hard across the face. “You disgusting, dirty pig! I was the one who was stupid for putting up with you for so long. Let me go so you can be free to fuck as many as you want,” I said, seeing him holding his face, still shocked that I had hit him. 

I picked up my suitcase and quickly left the room, with him coming after me and calling me every name. “Just go away, you fucking whore. You say you had to put up with me? Quite the contrary, I was the one who had to put up with a dry and tasteless woman like you for so long,” he said loudly for everyone to hear the scandal he was making.

It was already morning, and all the servants were awake doing their tasks, all those who had been with me for so long, who knew my character and had consideration and respect for me since, unlike the rest of those who lived in that house, I always knew how to treat people equal to equal; and today they watched me leave that mansion holding a suitcase in my hand while the Mortons looked at me as if I were an ungrateful crazy woman and my husband cursed me and humiliated me like that in front of everyone. 

“Can you believe she wore bunny lingerie the night before? Haha! This bitch dried wither, thinking she could still deduce a man. She still thinks she's at her peak. How pity! I feel sorry for you, Nancy. Go and suffer hunger and hardship away from the Mortons, which is what you deserve, ungrateful woman! Do you think I depend on you? Today I'll find someone else to replace you, you annoying piece of shit,” he yelled behind me. 

My tears blurred my vision, my shoulders were hunched, and my emotions were out of control. I almost tripped halfway, as the suitcase was heavy, but I still recovered and got back on the walk; I wasn't going to break my arm! Every step I took brought the exit gate closer to me as I carried my suitcase and descended the winding stone stairs that led up to the Morton mansion. 

As soon as I reached the gate, I walked out of it without blinking as my heart screamed for freedom. I looked one last time at that mansion, which had been my home for two decades, and felt nothing but remorse. If I could, I would throw a bomb and blow this whole place up. I wiped away my tears again, turned around, straightened my sweater, and began pulling my suitcase as I walked further and further away from the Mortons.