[Glimpse] [History] Don't Look Back

She’d been planning this for a while. They had to know she’d been planning this for a while. She’s never been very good at keeping secrets. That’s probably what the big fight with Da was really about. Probably what all the big fights over the last few months have been about. Mum’s been pleading with her. But not like she expected it to work. She’s eighteen now. As of today, she gets to make her own choices.

And the only choice she can make is to leave.

The tension in the house is so thick you could cut it. Over the sound of her own furious movement, stomping back and forth across her room, throwing her things into her backpack and her bag, the puff of her breath as she steams with anger… she can hear Mum downstairs. Weeping. She won’t watch her go, Ramona knows that. Won’t watch her daughter pack up and leave her house for good. Whatever Da might think about her, whatever hateful words he might call her, Ramona knows that her Mum will love her forever. But she’ll always try to go along with Da, and Ramona just can’t live in a house ruled by him anymore.

It hurts. It hurts so much. So much that if she stops being angry the hurt will pull her down onto the floor, pin her there, keep her in this godforsaken house. It hurts to leave Mum. It hurts that Mum will choose Da over her every time. It hurts that Da can’t accept that she wants to live her own life, that she won’t let him control every aspect of her existence.

It hurts that Da hates her for being gay.

“Shit!” She throws her bag down on her bed and kicks one of it’s legs, baring her teeth in a grimace as tears leak down her cheeks. She raises both palms and presses them into her eyes, rubbing fiercely. She’s got to get through this. There’s a friend’s couch she can sleep on. She can figure this out. She can do this. She just needs to keep moving. Her throat feels thick and she swallows. Then comes a deep, shuddering breath. Then, the packing resumes.

It doesn’t take long. Half her things had been packed and ready to go for days now. She’d been planning this for a while. The sound of her boots stomping down the stairs carries through the whole house. One bag in her hand, another over her shoulder, Ramona lifts her chin and heads for the door.

She stops. Someone is watching her. Mum still weeps deeper into the house, in the kitchen. Da went out twenty minutes ago, and is probably getting roaring drunk in this week’s favorite bar. There’s only one other person that lives in this house besides Ramona.

Sarah stands in the hallway beside the staircase. Her cheeks are wet, her expression forlorn. She looks so alone. So afraid. So confused. And so desperate for her big sister to stay. This hurts more than anything. Ramona knew it would. More than Da. More than Mum. Sarah doesn’t deserve this. To be left in this place, left with these people, by herself. She deserves a big sister. A big sister who stays to protect her.

But if Ramona stays any longer, she might die. She doesn’t know if Da will do it, or if she’ll do it herself, but she can feel her death in this house. It’s killing her. It’s been killing her a long time. She’s got to get out. She’d take Sarah with her if she could. But it’d be kidnapping. The sheriff would find her. And then she’d be in jail, and Sarah would still be alone.

The bags thump when they hit the floor, Ramona dropping them unceremoniously. Her boots clap against the floorboards as she crosses the hall to Sarah. And then her strong arms encircle her little sister, and it’s like a dam breaks. Sarah is crying into her shoulder, squeezing her as tight as she can. But she doesn’t do what Ramona expects her to do. She doesn’t beg her to stay. She just holds her tight in their embrace and asks not to be forgotten.

And that makes Ramona hold her sister out at arm’s length, gripping her shoulders and looking her in the eye. “You listen to me,” Ramona demands, voice firm with resolve and thick with grief. “I love you. I will never stop loving you. No matter what happens. I will always be your sister.”

She waits for Sarah to nod. They embrace one final time. And then Ramona is walking back towards that front door. She scoops up her bags, throws the door open, and walks down to the street as quick as her stride will carry her.

She doesn’t look back.



“You disgust me.”

“No I don’t.”

“You make me sick.”

“You looove me.”

“More’s the pity.”

“Hey fuck you, I’m a legit snack!”

“That an insult or an offer?”

“I contain multitudes.”

“And Hawaiian pizza.”

“Yes, and you could get in on this sweet-and-salty goodness yourself if you weren’t a luddite.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m on the cutting edge of my field.”

“Oh. My. God! I’m calling the cops. That pun was spousal abuse.”

Ramona leans back in her chair and roars with laughter at Kate’s antics. They’ve been living together for almost a year now, and honestly it has to be one of the best decisions she’s ever made. “At least your terrible taste in pizza is outmatched by your terrible taste in girlfriends,” she says with a huge, toothy grin.

When Kate smiles back at her, it’s like feeling the sun on her skin. The warmth of a sunrise after a cool, sweet night. Kate sets down her pizza slice and shakes her head at Ramona, a rueful twist to her lips. “I don’t know what I see in you,” she tells Ramona, before leaning closer for a kiss.

Ramona leans towards her to meet her halfway, and for a moment there is no world. There is no apartment. There is no Hawaiian pizza. There is only the feel of Kate’s soft lips upon her own. Until, after a moment, Ramona whispers against those lips; “It’s the abs.”

They immediately break down into giggles, first Kate with Ramona quickly following, until her girlfriend shoves them apart. Ramona laughs as she wobbles in her seat, picking up her slice of perfectly ordinary pepperoni pizza and taking a small bite while she watches Kate get up to refresh her drink in the kitchen. “Find anything good at the flea market today?”

“A few things, yeah,” Ramona confirms, thinking back to her purchases. Really, there’s only one that stands out from the others. “I found this beautiful antique sword. Absolutely gorgeous. Poor thing got snapped in half at some point. I thought I’d take a shot at repairing it tonight.”



A year and a day. That’s all she’s been gone. A year and a day. That can’t be right. It… it felt longer. Wasn’t it longer? It felt… it felt like lifetimes. Lifetimes in that forest. Lifetimes before the anvil. Oh god, the anvil. She has to put a hand against her chest and feel her heart beating beneath the cage of her ribs, reassure herself that it’s still there. That it’s not… trapped.

She’s still adjusting. If adjusting is the right word. There are people who have been helping. People who are… like her. Not exactly like her. But closer to it than anyone else could be. They found her when she emerged from the thorns. And for the last few days they’ve been… trying to help.

A year and a day.

She remembers that night. She remembers the pizza. She remembers Kate. She remembers telling her about the sword, the sword she was going to try to repair that evening while Kate had other plans. They would see each other again in the evening. They were certain, both of them. They’d get home. Ramona would have to shower off the sweat she’d worked up. Kate would wash off her makeup. They’d crawl into bed together as they did every night. There was no reason to think otherwise when she’d walked out that door.

She hadn’t looked back.