But Samantha again summoned her strength. She wouldn’t be cowered. This wouldn’t be the same as when she was a kid and her abusive father would come home, drunk, and slap the shit out of her and her mom, or lash them with his belt, for no reason, other than he could…
She’d always admired her mother for having the guts to grab her and leave. The pair hand in hand, escaping the house, dashing through the blue-lit living room, while her angry walrus of a father, in his undershirt and boxers, splayed out in his dirty old raggedy recliner chair; his mountainous belly rising and falling as he was snoring like a chainsaw in front of a Monday night football game. Half-eaten Mexican food, and an empty bottle of Jack strewn at his side… The room stinking of nachos and farts…
Samantha decided to emulate that bravery. Take the initiative. Break out of her box of fear.
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer She terminated her apartment lease early, disguised herself in a wig and trench coat and moved, in the small hours of night, to another apartment in another part of town. She changed jobs. She cut and dyed her hair. She bought a new wardrobe. She deleted her social media accounts and started new ones.
(But she kept a burner account that was friends with Colin’s Facebook, so she could track his movements. Worryingly, however, he hadn’t posted anything since they’d split…)