People lie, it’s inevitable. Whether their reasons are simple or complicated people lie. I often look back on my life and wonder if I lied less I would be in a different position? Safer; happier? Maybe even a different person.
Today, November 30, 2011, I got my life back.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the verdict was read.
“It’s all over sweetie,” the prosecutor said to me, “You can go home and feel safe.”
Safe; a beautiful thought but until he was six feet under I would always be looking over my shoulder.
I looked over at the man I thought I once knew. His hair was more grey than I remembered, and his age had really started to show. He looked over at me and I froze. This man tormented me for four years, and it took five years for justice to be served leaving him haunting me for almost a decade. The man who I thought I could trust most, the first and only man I ever loved.
I entered my friend’s apartment- he wasn’t home. My feet padded quietly against the laminant flooring as I made my way to the bathroom. I pulled a box of black hair dye out of a drug store bag. I started to apply it to my roots slowly rubbing it in- the smell of hair dye consumed the small space. It smelled like freedom.
I had never dyed my hair before, I had always been so proud of my naturally red hair- but I no longer wanted to be Dani Hopkins. I wanted to start new. As I blew dry my hair running my fingers through the raven colour I smiled to myself. My bone straight hair fell flat to my side. I felt weird, my hair so dark yet my skin so pale- my brilliant green eyes didn’t seem to go with the black. It was perfect.
I slowly made my way down the hall to my bedroom and pulled out an army green duffel bag. I put in two pairs of jeans, a pair of yoga pants, three t-shirts and some underwear. I dropped a few hair ties in and my hair brush. I looked around at the room I had called home for five years. I didn’t know where I was going next, but I knew it would not be anywhere in Boston. I had two thousand dollars to my name which I figured would be enough to get myself a place for a couple of months while I looked for a job.
I put my apartment key on the counter and picked up the ID’s my friend had made for me. Riley Louise McArthur, I smiled. I put my old ID on the counter, Dani Hopkins was no more. I walked out the door not sad to say goodbye. I walked and I walked until I reached route 77. There I stuck my thumb out and waited for someone to take me somewhere, anywhere but here.