Badlands Blog Post

            It had been five years since my time in Mississippi. I wouldn’t say I was that much better or worse off now. Things had been fine. I lived in South Dakota now—I’d met a nice young man on his way through nowhere Mississippi. I’d packed up my bags and gone with him right then. He was handsome enough, and at that point I had to get out of Mississippi. It wasn’t really a choice. I know it was a rash decision, but I had to get out of there. I thought I could just live off him for a while until I got my feet on the ground. But, things turned out differently.

            We had two children now—Sally and Ben. My husband—the cop—Will—provided for us well. We lived in a nice house, I made dinner every night, and packed the kids lunch on the weekends. I wore pretty floral dresses to socials and gossiped with the other mothers. I hosted luncheons with pretty little tea sandwiches and sipped on champagne and the occasional martini. Sometimes I looked at my life from the outside and wondered what I was doing. Where had my dreams gone?

            I’m older now, and sometimes I look back on this day with a blurred memory. Sally and Ben were at school when the police showed up at my house. I didn’t think much of it because Will was always comin’ around with his friends. But it wasn’t Will this time. I only remember the first words: “he made a valiant effort…but Will didn’t make it.” Apparently, he had been shot by some felon—Kit—who had gone wild with a gun. Kit had run around with a gun and shot up a bunch of people. My poor husband was pursuing him when Kit got out of the car and shot. Will didn’t see the gun, maybe he didn’t know. I was sad, I knew I was. It didn’t feel real at first and I promise I mourned his death. But at the same time, I felt free. Now I knew that I could take the kids somewhere. I could up and leave this town. Leave the godforsaken Midwest. Leave the South. Just leave this place. I was craving something new, something different. And it was time to find it.