Escape

Kati is trapped in her mundane life, her only escape the memories of a time...

I smiled at the man as I cleared away the empty dishes from the counter where he sat. He looked at me with a skeptical gaze, likely wondering what I was hiding behind my mask. I pretended not to notice the sharp brown eyes peering into my soul, trying to solve the mystery. It happened with regulars, they would start to see through me, see that I was hiding something. The longer I lingered, the harder it would be to keep up the facade. Soon I would start to feel the need to tell, start to trust people. That could not be allowed to happen. It was why I moved so often, people could not be trusted. Once they knew me they would change. They would push me away, cut me out, fear me.

It had been seven years, seven long years since I had first come to this place. I had left home with a dream, a promise that things would get better, that there was a place in the world for me. It had all been a lie. Every day had gotten harder, each year left me in more isolation and deeper debt. And now it was harder then ever, fearing every day that the table would be empty, that I wouldn't have dinner for my son or for my husband. I am a plague. I had found someone who didn't fear me, who accepted that he couldn't understand much of what I say, and I had brought him nothing but pain and poverty.

This city that promised to take in anyone. A country that promised freedom and equality. A society without judgement. A land of opportunity. Every word was a lie.

I slipped into the kitchen and begin washing the remnants of the meal from the dishes. It was the least I could do, after all Mali was always looking out for me. She smiled at me and nodded her thank you. She hardly ever spoke, and was often overlooked and ignored. Many immigrants were, there are only two languages spoken here, and unless you were of the proper background, you were forgotten.

"You, not doing so good?" She asked as I slipped out the back door. 

"Just going to help run the trash." I shrugged, though I'm sure she didn't believe me.

I slipped behind the dumpster and pulled out a cigarette. If I was caught I would be fired, but something had to help me escape. 

I leaned against the stone wall that hid our waste from prying eyes and took a deep breath. Escape. What a wonderful thought.

I could hear the distant music and smell the smoke of the past, as if it was calling me home. I closed my eyes and let it pull me along, away from this fear, away from this pain, to that place that I belonged.

Soon the dim orange light danced across the canvas walls of our tent, sending silhouettes in an entrancing marathon of rehearsal. Shouting and laughter, the clanking of bottles, and the merry hoof beats of the horses as the begged to be included in the celebration. The smell of roasting meat and wine filled the air, reminding us of the success of the season I slipped from the tent and took a seat beside the fire. Our encampment was so filled with life. A family, unbreakable, strong, eternal. Leaned against someone, it really didn't matter who, and sighed. This was the way the world was supposed to be. Soon they began to sing, pulling out the drums and the fiddle. Strange exotic strands filled the air, pulling me into a trans as several of the younger adults started to dance, swaying and spinning, round and round the fire. Dipping and weaving through the smoke and casting long shadows that disappeared into the surrounding blanket of darkness. I looked up to the stars, savoring it, giving thanks for the world and all she gave us. 

The laughter turned to chants as one youth stated his intention to share his act with the family, and he pulled out his wand, dipping it into the fire and sending it spinning into the air. This was followed by delighted shouts and soon the fire itself was dancing to the beat of the drums, partnered with the reckless spirits that bent it to their will.

"Kati, you dreaming again? You know you're going to get caught one of these days."  I snapped back to reality to find Rosa staring me down with a stern expression.

"I know, I just needed a break. I'll be back before the customers even notice I was gone."

"It's not the customers who will fire you." she snapped. "What do you dream about anyways?"

"Pirates!" I grin, snuffing out what's left of my cigarette and tossing it in the dumpster. 

If I told her it wouldn't be mine anymore, my precious escape, that safe place somewhere halfway between a memory and a dream. My world, my safe heaven. My escape.

Reviews

[R Smith]

Interesting tale of imagination and the flight from reality into a dream fantasy, maybe this kind of escape provides us with relief from our mundane existence as in the story, the main character wanted to find a future that came to nothing and left the dreary life of the story. This is a strong tale written with mixed emotion and some degree of passion, it seems Kitalia that there must be more to come and it does make the reader wish for that, excellent work :)

[Kitalia Emme]

Thank you!
I may expand on this someday... I'm not old enough to fill a book yet though. This is actually, in many ways, about me...

If you do like my imagery I have 2 books hanging about, and would love to know your thoughts. I also know that it's hard to read a book (multi-chapter) when it doesn't speak to your heart directly, and we all have lives and places to be.

[R Smith]

I will look at them as soon as possible, it just may take longer being books but as long as they are here I will find them thank you :)