New Beginnings

I cannot believe that I've actually done it. Leaving. Packing up and getting the hell out of that house. Holy shit. Laurel, you actually did it. You actually did the impossible.

Closing my notebook, I turned to the little boy sitting in the window seat intrigued by the giant fluffy white clouds floating past our window. He held his stuffed bunny close to his chest. Although his stuffed bunny is old and tattered, with bits of string dangling off the limbs, I am so glad I remembered to grab it before we left. God. I couldn't even imagine how he would've reacted if he couldn't have his little bun-bun with him. I paid so close attention to this little boy's reaction to the floating puffs of air outside our window that I didn't even catch the lady sharing our aisle speak out.

"Huh?" I turned to face the woman sitting next to us. She looked as if she was old enough to be my mother. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans and had on a nice California hoodie on.

"I had just asked if this was the first flight he's been on," She chuckled, "Reminds me a bit of when I first took my son on his first flight.. he was older than yours, though."

"Oh." I smiled, glancing back at my little boy before turning back to her, "Yeah. It's his first ever flight."

"That's so precious." She smiled, "Where the two of you heading? Oh.. I'm so sorry. I can be so nosy at times."

"It's fine." I smiled, "Uh.. We're just going to visit my parents for a little while."

She nodded before putting her nose back in the book she had brought on the flight with her. I turned back towards my little boy, brushing my fingers back through his hair, as I watched him continue to stare out the small airplane window. I quietly reopened my notebook and began to write once more.

My biggest fear, I guess, is for my boy to one day ask whatever happened to his father. I'm already dreading the day he questions about his father, and we haven't even been away from him for a full day yet. He's only four now. Only four years old and have already seen way too much of his father than he should've seen. Hell. Four years old and he's already had to call the cops on his father to protect his own mother. At just four years old. I never had to call the police on my own father until I was ten. My baby was four.

I guess you can say that's what did it. That's what convinced me that I had to get out of there. There's just something about laying helpless on the floor, while your toddler cries out for you to wake up, that forces you to wake the hell up. It took for me to lay helpless on the floor to..

A tug at the bottom of my sleeve broke me from my trance. Turning my head, I saw my little boy looking to me with worry in his eyes; the same way he looked to me as I laid helpless on the kitchen floor.

"Mommy?" He asked me.

"Yes?" I turned to face him, closing my notebook in the meantime. Of course, maybe I'll let him read what I wrote down in the future... but right now, I want to keep him in his state of child innocence for as long as I possibly can. "Did you want something, Joey?"

"Why are you crying, mommy?" He pointed towards my cheeks before stretching his arms to try and wipe the moisture from them.

I smiled, wiping off my cheeks before bringing his arms back down to his waist, "Mommy's fine, Joey. Mommy was just thinking, that's all."

"Look out the window." He smiled, turning back to face the clouds once again, "The clouds look so fun!"

I chuckled, looking out the window with him, "Yes, they are." I pointed towards the window, "You should imagine that you're out there, bouncing on each fluffy cloud the way you used to bounce on that trampoline we used to have."

He grabbed ahold of my hand, squeezing tight before wrapping his arm around mine, "Bounce with me, mommy. It'll make you feel better."

"Okay." I smiled as I continued to stare out the window once more. Little did he know, I already felt better. I've never felt any better than I do right now. I was free. Finally free. He'll never be able to hurt either one of us ever again, and for that... we can bounce on as many clouds as we possibly can.