It’s been six months since the day Sarah planted the seed of hope for my escape. the surrogate agency has arranged everything, and my life is about to take a turn I couldn’t have foreseen. A smile graces my face as I finish packing my bag and exit my bedroom.

As soon as I step foot into the hall, Jay’s snoring is the first thing I hear. I sneak past the couch where he's passed out on. Thanks to the sleeping pills I slipped into his beer, he'll be out well into the next day. It might have been a little excessive to bust up three pills instead of one, but I had to be sure he wouldn't wake up. Everything I've planned has all boiled down to this one moment. This one opportunity to grab my chance at a new beginning.

I swing my bag over my shoulder, glancing over at his sleeping form.

One arm is thrown over the back of the couch, a foot on the floor, the other arm draped over the end of the couch. His mouth is wide open and his snoring causes his bottom lip to quiver as he inhales deeply. His breath comes out on a saw-like snore that rattles deep in his chest.

I look hard at the man who I used to think I loved. But I can't summon an ounce of regret for what I'm about to do. If anything, I'm finding it difficult to contain the excitement that causes my heart to race and my hands to shake as a spike of adrenaline punches through my body.

I turn the corner and open the back door carefully, lightly closing it so as not to draw attention from the neighbors. All the lights have been shut off outside, and the bulb on the electrical pole busted when I threw a rock at it this morning. I want no one to see me leaving.

Like a thief in the night, I slink into the darkness of the midnight shadows. When I reach the neighbor’s yard, I dig into my bag and pull out a packet of meat, tear the plastic back, and throw it over the privacy fence.

The rustling sound of the neighbor’s Rottweiler can be heard as he darts out of his doghouse and begins to devour the treat. He's the only dog on this side of the street, and I couldn't risk him barking as I snuck past their yard.

For the next thirty minutes, I walk through the woods behind my house and finally reach the four-lane highway on the other side.

Just as planned, Sarah's car is waiting at the exit ramp.

I run over and hop into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed. She gives me a strained smile and then quickly pulls out into the slow lane.

"Did anyone see you?" I ask.

"No. Not one car has come down the road the entire time I've been here."

"Good." I glance down to my watch––11:39.

Everyone is packing up to head home from the high school state tournament football game. I had to pick a night when I knew Jay would want to get drunk. He was taking it pretty hard that the quarterback had broken his state record for passing yards in a single season. I don't know why, but Jay took an exceptional amount of pride in being the darling of our small town. The new kid had stolen his glory, and he didn't want to be around to witness his greatness being wiped clean as a new generation had the light shined on him.

"I knew he'd get wasted." I mumble.

"Bastard deserved to be dethroned. This town has idolized him for far too long."

"Yeah, but he doesn't see it that way. If he hadn't broken his leg his senior year, he would have been recruited to play college ball. Between that and the pregnancy scare ...” The memories of him cursing me for ruining his plans. His need to take care of me because we thought I'd gotten pregnant. Finding out I had a cyst on my ovaries that was causing false pregnancy tests was the best news I could've ever asked for.

Sarah reaches over and squeezes my hand. I glance at her, and she flashes an encouraging smile. "It wasn't your fault he turned into a worthless wife-beating drunk. He's an asshole, and you're the best person I've ever met. He never deserved you, Krista. You were always too good for him. Everyone knew it but you. The fact he was able to convince you otherwise ...” She tsks. "That only confirms how big of an asshole he really is."

She turns her attention back to the road, and we both fall silent for the rest of the ride. I take comfort in the heavy silence lingering in the car between us. I struggle with conversation these days. I have no idea who I am anymore and striking up a conversation is a chore I can no longer summon the energy for.

When we finally reach the bus station, Sarah parks and reaches into the back seat to hand me my disguise.

I pull my hair up into a tight bun and slide the chocolate brown wig over my head. It's styled in a blunt bob with bangs long enough to shadow my eyes, which I finger style until it looks natural.

Then I switch my things over to a bag she bought so any cameras that catch me walking through the station won't offer him a recognizable image. I jerk off my jacket and the rest of my clothes and change into the outfit she's brought for me. Even my shoes are discarded and swapped out for new tennis shoes.

When I'm finished changing, she reaches into her glove compartment and hands me a brown bag full of the cash I've been saving. I had hidden it beneath a loose wooden plank in the floor at work, and Sarah retrieved it for me at the end of her shift tonight.

I shove the five grand I've secretly saved over the years down into my new black bag and zip it closed. The debit card for my new checking account is in the bag as well. I’d had to open a new account for the surrogacy agent to deposit my funds into.

Sarah hands me a ball cap and a pair of black rimmed glasses that have clear non-prescription lenses in them. When I have the wig, cap, and glasses on, I turn to her. "Well, what do you think?"

She reaches over and adjusts the hat and my wig, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He'll never recognize you."

"Good. That's the point." I open the door and step out into the chilly night air.

"I can't believe you're leaving." Sarah walks around the car and gives me a brief hug and then steps back, tears glistening in her mocha eyes.

"It's time for me to take back my life." I tighten the strap of my backpack.

"Damn straight, it is." She laughs and swipes at a stray tear gliding down her rose-colored cheek.

I smile and then turn to head toward the bus station.

"Keep in touch," she calls out.

I don't turn back. If I do, it'll be too difficult to walk away.

As I board my bus, it finally starts to settle in. This is it ... I'm leaving it all behind.

* * *

"This one is mine." I gesture to the seat beside the lady in the aisle seat then squeeze past her to take my place next to the window. I slide my bag beneath my seat, my one and only bag. It's sad to think that this was all I was able to sneak out of the house, but in the same sense, it's everything that means anything to me. The rest can rot.

I haven't bought an outfit in ten years that he didn't choose for me. I haven't worn makeup since I graduated high school because he said it made me look like a cheap whore. For so long, I have lived under his control, and for the first time in over a decade, I feel free.

As the bus takes off into the night, I look out at the lights of a home I will never return to. I take a deep, relaxing breath.

"Goodbye," I whisper.

I blow my hot breath on the window pane and draw a heart. The only thing I'll miss about North Carolina is my mother’s gravesite. It's the one place where I could go and discuss my life without fear of being judged. Jay never visited the cemetery, and for that, I was grateful. That one small reprieve was my solace in life.

Maybe once I get to Chicago and meet the doctor whose child I'm to carry, I'll find a peace that even the cemetery couldn't grant me.

For the first time in I can’t remember how long, a bubble of hope weaves through my weary body. Hope––to actually dream for a better life. It's a concept that I didn't think I'd ever have for myself. Whoever this doctor is, he can't possibly understand how much this opportunity means to me. The depth of my gratitude will know no bounds. I'll do everything I can to provide him the perfect baby.

Speaking of ... I bend over and pull his profile from my bag. Sarah printed everything out for me at the library computer since I wouldn't dare give Jay a link to where I was going.

I stare at the picture stapled to the back of the lengthy contract following his profile. His hazel eyes seem to carry the weight of the world within his intense gaze. I don't know how, or when his wife passed away, but the tightness of his features and severity of his expression eludes to a man who walks through life with an element of detachment. But before I pass further judgment on the man, I need to meet him and see if his eyes really do convey the depth of despair I sense awaits me.

I begin to wonder what the next ten to eleven months will hold for me. The agency explained that the first month will consist of examinations and preliminary work before the actual implantation takes place. They made it all sound so cold and clinical. But the fact of the matter is that I'm going to be pregnant with someone else's child. And even though the baby will not biologically be mine, I'm still going to be carrying a baby that I know I'll grow to care for.

When I asked the lady at the agency if Mr. Scott would allow contact with the baby after its birth, she said that Mr. Scott had expressly forbid contact after the birth.

I don't know how I feel about that, but I'm willing to take the risk anyway. I'll just have to close myself off emotionally until the baby is born and I can collect the remainder of my fee and start a new life.

At that thought, I close my eyes and envision myself painting in front of a classroom filled with children. A smile creeps across my face as I sink further into the dream and a much-needed nap.