TW: self harm

"I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can."

──────⊱⁜⊰─────

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

The whole twenty-eight minute car ride is painfully quiet. I'm in my head about who these people really are, and Chris is fuming. I'm glad he controlled his temper, this time, somewhat, but Beck deserves what's coming to him. If Chris had fucked him up the way he wanted to last time, Beck wouldn't still be running his mouth, taunting my boyfriend.

The car is finally parked parallel outside of our townhome on Main Street and before rushing inside, I look all around to assure no one is watching, lurking.

I wave my hand into the camera and watch it back on the app on my phone to make sure that is works, and it does.

The dogs are barking, I can hear them from outside as I wait for Chris to walk up the steps and unlock the door. He couldn't be any slower.

I push my way inside and don't even bother acknowledging the dogs with a "hi" or any affection. Instead, I dart straight upstairs, ignoring Chris calling my name.

"Morgan." He repeats, following me to our bedroom.

I help myself out of the gown and leave it on the floor before my walk-in closet.

"Morgan!" Chris shouts. I ignore him still and find something comfortable to slip into.

"MORGAN ANN BENNETT," he barks to get my attention finally. "will you please tell me what the fuck is going on?"

I only put on a pair of joggers and a plain grey tee before addressing him on the edge of the bed.

My head shakes as I relive what went down between tonight's ball and The Hamptons fiasco.

"Chris, I can't do this. I can't. I hate it here, I want to leave now. Right now!" I cry into his lap.

He lifts my chin and I sniffle, looking into his eyes through my blurred vision.

"What is it?" He asks lowly, palming my warm cheek.

"These people. I— we need to leave. Look at me, Chris. Me, your girlfriend, I'm tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally, I cannot take it here another second."

"Where do you want to go, Morgan?" He asks me, standing to start undressing and I'm thankful for that.

"Anywhere," I sniffle, getting off of my knees. "far from here. I just need to think. We need to think. Let's just get in the car and go, okay?"

~

JB helps Chris switch our bags from the Tesla to Jabari's truck.
We wanted to be able to keep our cars at home to at least make it look like we haven't left just in case someone is watching us, which I know they are.

"I don't like this, Mo." Jasmine shakes her head at me, arms still crossed.

"You don't have to, but I need this." I tell her, squeezing her arm.

She wipes her tears and stomps her foot. "Morgan, are you okay, you can tell me?"

Her desperate emotion almost makes me cry but I have to stay strong. Like I said, we need this. If I don't go now, I'll drive myself crazy.

"I'm okay, Jas. I'll call you when I'm back, it won't be more than a week." I assure her with a big squeeze that I don't let her body out of for less than a minute.

"Ready?" Chris asks me from the sidewalk.

I look at him and then JB and nod surely.

"Come on, Jas." JB tells her.

We all gather into both vehicles and they follow Chris and I back to our townhouse so we can park the Tesla there and then take them back home.

I let Jas know that she can use my car whenever she needs to run errands. That way, it looks like I'm leaving the house at least sometime. Chris allowed JB to do the same. Izzy and Lee also let us know that they'll stop by our house regularly to keep an eye on things, as did Tim, our neighbor.
It's nice having all of their support. I wasn't trying to scare them, all I said is that we needed a quick getaway.

Once they're dropped back off outside of their home, Jasmine and Jabari wave us goodbye until we're out of sight down the road.

2:11am

"Where to?" Chris asks me, taking my hand to hold.

I glare out of the tinted window and hunch my shoulders.

"Just head out of the city." I sigh.

~~~

"Congratulations, it's a girl." The doctor tells my older sister.

She cuts her eyes from the newborn and stares out of the window.

"When can I put it up for adoption?" She scowls.

I watch the nurses shake their heads as they hold the baby girl, expecting for the mother to take her.

"Can I hold her?" I ask, wearing my scrubs and surgical mask.

"Sure." One nurse smiles at me.

I gently rock the baby in my arms and can't help but get emotional.

"She's beautiful." I gasp.

I pull my mask down and smile in the baby's face. She's the most precious and quiet baby I've ever seen. She's so little and has a head full of hair. I wonder if it will be naturally curly like mine and Callie's or not. God knows who the father is, so I can't gamble with those genetics to imagine what traits Quinn got from him.

"Quinn," I say, standing to stroll around the room after everyone's left. "I'm your auntie, Morgan. I love you so much already. I'm always going to be here for you. I'll be your first best friend, your big sister, even your momma. I can't wait to see how you turn out. I bet your first words will be Morgan. Anyway, your real mom doesn't know it, yet, but you are a blessing. Quinn Mae, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, I love you, I love you."

~

I pick Quinn up off of the floor and throw my bag over my shoulder.

"I'm leaving, Callie. For good this time, we don't need this."

"Where the hell are you going to go, to Kitty's? You're not going anywhere, especially not with my child."

"You don't even want her, Callie!"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

We both jump, scared.

"Is that CPS again?" She worries, extinguishing her cigarette on the Bible at the kitchen table.

I shrug my shoulders and keep the crying one-year-old on my hip.

"It's Mom and Dad, open up." I hear Kelsey's voice from outside.

My face lights up, happy to see them after a few months.

"Don't let them in!" Callie whisper-yells.

"Fuck you, I'm letting them in. Put your tits away." I grumble, stepping over her new junkie boyfriend's body on the piss-stained carpet.

I know the routine and follow it, putting Quinn in the back room because Callie doesn't want our parents to know she had a child. Let alone a child while she was drinking and dabbling in drugs. However, Quinn is my little miracle baby and had turned out perfectly fine. She's my angel.

I stop them from knocking anymore by opening the broken front door.

Meow! The car jumps from the bookcase and startles our parents.

"Oh!" Our mother shrills.

"Why the fuck are you having company at seven in the morning, Cal?" Erin, her boyfriend of the week, groans, standing up with his dick out.

"It's three PM, Danny." Callie mumbles, lighting another cigarette.

"I'm Erin, you bitch. Where's my shit at?" He asks for his drugs. I eye them on the coffee table before anyone else does and I don't say anything.

"Sir, put some pants on and get the fuck out of my house now before I call the cops." Owen, my father, warns this guy.

He throws his hands up and stumbles out. "Callie said this was her house, dude."

"Erin, baby, don't leave me. I-it is my house, I swear." She chases after him, making me roll my eyes.

He pushes her down onto the sidewalk outside, I can see as I watch them through the busted living room window, and he drives off in her car.

"What the hell? Honey, call the cops." Dad demands, running outside.

I look at Mom and shake my head. "Don't bother, he'll be back by tonight. This is the third time they've done this. How are you?"

"I'm sorry to see you still living like this. Morgan, sweetie, please come back with us." Mom begs.

Dad walks back inside and looks around at all the mess.
It's not that bad, I clean up everyday. Shit's broken and we don't have the money to fix it, though. We make due.

"Morgan, this is enough. You can come live with us until you get on your feet. Let's go. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer this time." Dad insists, finding an empty briefcase on the floor. He starts down the hallway, asking where my bedroom is so he can pack for me.

"Dad, get back here." I sigh, standing from the couch. I'm just worried he'll snoop and discover Quinn, or hear her crying.

He comes back to the living room and sees Callie sulking in.

"Enough is enough, Caleen, you're getting help and I'm taking my daughter with me." He threatens.

Callie lifts her head and reveals her bloodshot eyes as wide as saucers.

"You're not taking her anywhere, you bastards. I raised her!"

I sit back down and bury my head in my hands. Here they go again.

Mom rubs my back, whispering in my ear for me to go get my things.

I sniffle and nod my head, ready to go for good this time.

I need to get Quinn out of here, is what I'm busy thinking about as I trek down the hall.

My sister and father start a screaming match and I get hit with a shoe in my back.

"Ow. Callie!" I cry out, turning to face the madness.

"So, you want to leave me? Unh-unh. No way. Over my dead body." She rages, going into the kitchen.

"Callie, she's grown. You can't keep her here in this environment, it's not right. If you love her, you'll let her come with us. We can give her a much better life."

"What about me?"

Mom sighs. "It's too late for you."

"Kelsey, stop talking to this lunatic. Morgan, go get your stuff. Hurry." Dad puts his foot down.

I watch Callie start to shake, her whole face is red, and she looks possessed.

She snatches a knife from the utensil rack and puts it to her wrist.

"CALLIE!" Mom and Dad shriek with fear.

"If you take her, I will do it. I will cut myself right now." She warns them, starting to do it.

I cringe, unable to watch, but this isn't the first time she's done something like this.

Mom breaks down into her husband's arms and he sends me a sympathetic look.

"Don't." I mouth to him, tears filling my eyes.

"She needs you." He says to me, slowly backing out of the house.

"I'm sorry." Is the last thing he said to me before leaving me there with her. Again.

~~~

7:14 am

"Whew, thanks for stopping, babe; I had to pee so bad." Chris joins me by the chairs at this park in the valley.

We're far from the city and that's not a complaint.
This place is peaceful, serene, completely opposite of Port Ember.
It's quiet, even the water got the memo to be still.

Chris throws a tennis ball into the shallow water so Duke and Stevie can go fetch.

He sits next to me with an old-man-like-grunt and looks at me.

I shake my head, snapping out of my thoughts.

"It was never my parents fault," I blurt at random. "they did try to take me back. I guess it was just easier to think of them as the bad guys instead of Callie. I always felt so bad for her, but now I'm looking back, asking myself why. They wanted me, but I thought I had to stay with her, and Quinn. How I remember it — how she told me to remember it, anyway— they kicked her out and made me go, too. Callie just always told me they got rid of both of us, but that was never true. I mean, I was eight so they should've done a lot more but what can you do when Callie's threatening to kill herself if they take me away?"

I sniffle, trying to laugh it off, and Chris sits up. He's worried, eyes gone large as he rubs my arm.

I wipe my tears away and go on. "And then Quinn was born, I always wondered why she wouldn't let me take her away if she didn't want her? I wish I could've. If I did, Quinn would still be here-"

"Don't say that, Morgan. You can't blame yourself-"

"No, but I can, it's true; just like I couldn't leave Malcolm. I got everyone into all of this shit, including you and your Dad, JB and all the guys, whatever you all did to him. All because I couldn't leave. And Jasmine tells me all the time that I need to leave you, but I can't. I think something's wrong with me. Like, Callie really fucked me up because if she didn't make me stay with her, I probably would've turned out normal. Now I'm broken."

"Morgan, listen to me: you are not broken. There is nothing wrong with you, stop talking like that." Chris kneels before me, shaking me by the shoulders.

I look past his body with no particular emotion. Not anger, spite, grief, or even sadness.

"As the days go on, I find myself kind of hating her. There's not a single notable thing about her life other than the fact that she gave birth to Quinn. And this shit— aheh. It's just fucked up because this is going to be your whole life if you stay with me - running, always in some sort of drama. It's following us at this point. Look at us, Chris, on the run now because of me. And we have the nerve to want kids? How are we going to bring kids into this world? It's selfish, and I won't do it. I'll just ruin them like Callie did to me."

I bring my gaze to meet his and he looks frightened, actually. If I heard someone else talking like this, I would be, too, but it's the truth.

"I'm sorry it took me this long to realize that. And I'm sorry you're going through all of this because of me. We always say we don't deserve each other, but you don't deserve to live like this and to have done the things you've done."

"Morgan-" Chris hangs his head.

"Really, I mean it, I'm the root of all of this. I couldn't leave Callie. I could barely leave Kyle. I couldn't leave Malcolm-"

"I'm with you because I'm in love with you. Everything I've done, I did because I wanted to. And I'll do it again. Listen to me: I promise right now that you and I are going to get through this. This isn't our life, okay? In a few days, we're going to go back and everything will be done and over once I handle it, but you gotta let me handle it. I don't want you worrying, you know why?"

I shake my head no and Chris half-kneels to kiss my stomach.

"'Cause you have to be ready for motherhood."

Again, I shake my head. "Chris, no, I-I don't think I can do it. What if I'm not a good mother? W-what if something happens to one of us?"

"Shh," he says, burying his head in my stomach. "you're going to be the perfect mother. The most beautiful, loving, caring mother anyone could have. And even if something happens to me, you're going to be there."

"But nothing's going to happen to you." I falter, bringing him onto his feet.

Chris stands tall and pulls my body even closer to his to comfort me.

When he doesn't say anything, I get worried and look up at him.

"Nothing's going to happen to you." I repeat, this time less like a question and more as a statement or a prompt for him to confirm.

"No, it's not," He rasps, holding my elbow.

~~~

NO DOGS OR JEWS OR GATORS ALLOWED

Chris and I look at each other with the same facial expression as we read the sign outside of the gas station.

Duke and Stevie howl from the truck but we left all the windows cracked, anyway. We won't be long, just need a few things to hold us over.

"The fuck, do people just casually own alligators around here?" Chris curses, holding the door open for me.

"And what's wrong with Jewish people?" I scowl, entering with caution.

If I didn't have to pee so bad, we wouldn't be entering this antisemitic place.

I choke as dust falls on my head from the cracks in the ceiling.

The place is pretty run down. Okay, that's an understatement. It is an old shack, looks like some kids were trying to make a clubhouse one day a century ago and then abandoned it. There's gas, though, and a sign for a restroom, so it will have to do.

"Don't touch anything." Chris warns me as we walk carefully atop the creaking wood.

I curl my face at the dust that's covering mostly everything from the mason jars to the souvenirs and public telephone.

"Look, it's a pay phone." I say to Chris.

He puts his arm over my body before I try and touch the vintage technology after he just said not to.

"Let's find the bathroom and some water bottles so we can get the fuck out of here." He mumbles, looking around cautiously.

I spot a woman behind the register and smile at her on my way over.

"Hi! Do you have a bathroom I could use?" I ask her politely.

She cuts her eyes from the static on the tv to look me up and down over her round glasses.

"Mhm." She sounds, turning back to look at the tv.

Chris flails his arms. "Well, where the hell is it?" His temper is short and it shows.

I put my hand to his chest so he can cool it and let me do the talking.

The obese woman shifts in her chair to allude to the door at the end of the last aisle. She doesn't say another word even once I thank her, just huffs and stares at the tv.

"Fuckin' inbred-" Chris grumbles, pushing me towards the bathroom.

I nudge him for being mean but I laugh a little.

"Oh, Pringles." Chris lights up at the sight of his favorite chips. He goes to pick up the can but there's a dark, sticky substance that's basically bonding it to the shelf.

"Ew." I croak, walking away, shuddering.

Chris dusts his hands off on his grey sweatpants and chokes from the ghastly smell that's getting stronger, the closer we get to the bathroom.

I cover my nose with one hand and try to turn the doorknob with the other.

"It won't open." I fret, trying harder.

"Ma'am," I shout to get the cashier's attention. "it's locked."

"It ain't locked, just push." She insists.

I make my eyes big at Chris, non-verbally asking for his help.

He jiggles the handle and then uses his hip to push it in.

Finally, the door opens and I don't know if I even want to go inside anymore, but I need to take a leak, it's been too long holding it.

"Pray for me." I gulp, shutting myself inside.

The toilet seat is brown but I don't think it came like that originally, and there's a (hopefully) dirt ring inside. There are spider webs everywhere and graffiti on the walls of swastikas and confederate flags. I feel unsafe.

"You okay?" Chris asks me from the other side.

"I don't think I can go." I complain, squatting over the seat after I've put several layers of toilet paper on it.

"Just try."

I whine and turn my face up as I start to pee but don't like a single second of this.

Once I'm relieved, I try washing my hands but the water won't start.

"The fucking faucet is broken." I add that to the list of shitty things about this place.

"There's probably Germ-x in the car, come on."

Eventually, though, water starts running.

AGGHHHHH!!!

Ants and roaches flow out of the faucet with brown muggy water and I retract my hands so fast, shaking them frantically in case anything got on me.

"Morgan?!" Chris's voice booms. He pushes the door in to save me and I scamper through the aisle to hurry out of this unholy place.

The woman is laughing hysterically, showing all two of her rotted teeth.

"Look, lady, do you know where this farm is? It's not showing up on my phone?" I show her the address.

"Yep, you're headed the right way. Just keep straight, you got about another hour." She tells me.

"It's a big pretty white rancher and lots of acres. Look for the tall fence, should have a lot of artwork on it."

"Artwork?" I ask her.

She snickers. "The family that just moved in, nice white man and his nine-eleven terrorist female. My boys drew up some fine artwork on their fence, can't miss it."

My jaw drops and Chris snatches my phone from her greasy hands.

"Fuck you, lady." I curse at her as Chris yanks me away.

"Y'all come back now, ya hear!" The woman cracks up as Chris and I make our exit.

"Disgusting. Ugh, I hope this place burns down with her in it." I rant as Chris and I get back in the truck.

He's wide awake now and doesn't mind driving, pulling off with a purpose.

Two boys are sitting on the fence outside of that gas station, waving to us mechanically with oil rubbed all over their skin like blackface.

I sit up and blink hard to make sure I'm not seeing things.

What the fuck?

I give both kids the finger and then settle back into my seat, uncomfortably angry at these people in this hick town.

Chris shakes his head at those little bastards, slamming his foot down on the gas so we can get as far from here as fast as possible.