I lived in an old beat up house where brown rust curled up around the house. I’d never been in love, because I was forced to marry a guy named Roger. Roger was from a wealthy family, but he never spent it on clothes or even a decent house to live in. He spent it on alcohol. We had a six year old child named Zoey.
One day I felt like I couldn’t handle another night being beaten up or yelled at and having to try to hide my sweet little child from seeing or hearing it all night. I started to pack and making sure I had everything to get through a couple of days. I did have a plan that I always knew would work, I was going to run to Canada where my parents lived. As I was checking if I had everything, I heard him drive into the driveway from a night’s worth of drinking. I quickly grabbed my two bags and Zoey. I tried to make a run for the back door, but there he was standing at the back door with his nice fancy suit looking clean, except his bad alcohol breath and messy greasy hair that flopped back and forth when he walked.
“Where are you going, with those bags and all?” Roger said with his breath reeking of beer.
“I’m running away from you and this rotten house. You won't even know I’m gone because you can’t even remember a night. Also, you would rather drink than hang out with your only daughter. I’m going to protected her from seeing bad things in this world. Whatever you say, nothing is going to stop me from protecting our child.”
“Oh yeah well... well,” he was pointing his finger at me and trying to get to what he wanted to say, but then he collapsed on the ground. I screamed a little at the site of a drunk man on my floor, but then I remembered what I was doing and should do while I had the chance. I ran out the door and went straight to the airport. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but hopefully it would be a safe place for my child.

It has been a couple of years since I ran away from that terrible point of my life I tried to forget. Zoey was now in 3rd grade and I couldn’t be any more proud of her and what she has accomplished. When we moved to Canada, I got an alcoholic therapist degree. I didn't know why I wanted to get this degree, but I knew I wanted these problems to end in the world. One day when I was working a man walked in. I thought it was the next patient. I was gathering some papers and a folder, but then the man spoke with that familiar deep voice. I thought it couldn't be, so I just went on with my therapedic voice.
“Hi, how about you tell me about your week and what you did?”
“So you have a husband or children?”
“I have an 8 year old in 3rd grade, how about you?” I said pointing to her school picture.
“Pretty. Is her name Zoey?”
“Yeah, how did you know?” I finally looked right into his eyes and realized who it was. He didn’t look like himself. He was all cleaned up and wasn’t slurring his words like he used to. All I could do at that point was drop my jaw. I knew he knew what I was thinking.
“I know it’s tough to realize I’m here, but I wanted to find you to show you that I have changed, and to see my beautiful daughter. Please give me another chance. I promise you that I have changed.”
“I don't know what to say. You are going way too fast. How do I know you changed?” I asked, not believing the same man that abused me night after night had changed. He laughed to himself like it was an inside joke to himself.
“Well I spent most of my money on a therapeutic camp, and I do have a paper that said I graduated from being an alcoholic. I can show you if you come back with me.”
“I can’t go back to that rotten house. Zoey and I have something nice here. Zoey has friends and is the smartest kid in her class. Also, I have a decent job here. I doubt you even have a job,” I said while I was trying not to cry in front of him. I wanted to keep what I felt. I finally have something normal here. He got out his phone and brought up picture of a house.
“This would be your new home. It’s the same house, I just fixed it up after my training of being a better person. Also, I have a job as a dog walker. I know it’s not a good job, but I am out of the house and moving,” He showed me a beautiful white house with bright white flowers on the sides of the house. It was the same small house but no rust anywhere. But why did he do this for me even though we were forced to marry?
“Why?” I said while tears ran down my face.
“Since the incident, you made me realize that I needed help. Now, see me now. A changed man. I may not be rich anymore, but that money was put to good use.”
I thought I should give him a second chance. I took him to my small apartment to figure things out. It was weird talking to the man that used to say mean things and smelled like beer care about how I was doing.
It’s been quite some time since Roger came to surprise me with what a changed man he was. He was now being a father, taking Zoey to school, making her lunch. Also, he helps her with her homework. I didn’t even know he was so good at science. One day when I was at work, I got a call from Roger that Zoe didn’t feel good. She was at the hospital and I needed to come as soon as possible. Once I got there, Roger said that she had fever of 105 and losing one pound every two hours. I was running and tripping to get into her room, but Roger stopped me.
“It’s going to be okay. She is in safe hands,” Roger said with his croaky voice
“I can't leave my baby alone and scared.”
“The doctor just wants us to sit and wait.” He took my arms and shook me, making me look him in the eyes. I fell into his arms crying into his shoulders. We stayed there for a few minutes then the doctor came to tell us the news.
“I know what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to sound pretty.” He took a deep breath and said his words very slowly.
“Zoey has Luema cancer and has very little time to live. My guess is 1 hour.”
My heart stopped. I didn’t even know what to think. All I could do was run to her. I ran into her room while the doctor tried to stop me, but gave up quickly. I saw her laying there on the hospital bed. She didn’t even look like my little angel anymore. I could see every little detail of her cheekbones, her eyes blinking weak and fast. She tried to talk to me with her weak voice,
“Hi, mom.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, making sure that would make her feel everything was going to be okay.
“It’s going to be okay I promise.” She took a deep breath, the machine started to do a long beep. I looked at the monitor in shock that it had come to this. Roger came in and tried to get me out of the room so the doctors could do what they needed to do.

The funeral was on a gloomy Sunday. The whole day was full of sorrys. After that day, I told Roger we should run away and go somewhere people wouldn't know our past. I wanted a new start, a complete new life. Roger did just what I wanted to do. We packed up and left anything that would remind us of our past. We got on an airplane that night to the U.K. Roger just held me in his arms the whole ride there. It felt weird that I felt safe in his arms, and that we could just have a new life.
Once we got to England, our new homeland, we got a small white house where we planted several white and blue flowers. We were known as the flower couple because we had so many flowers in our backyard. The past couple of years, all I could do was try to forget. To forget that I was once hurt by a man I truly love now. Also, to forget that I had a daughter who I loved very much die of a terrible disease.
Today, Roger and I are like peas and carrots and living the life we never knew we could have.