Choices

Now, as I gaze at the dingy walls, my mind wanders back to the fight that brought me here. Slumping onto the dirty bedcover, the memories flood back. I let my eyes focus on a crack in the ceiling to ponder my choices.

I force myself to open the splintered, pock-marked door, and make my way to the pay phone. How long should I let it ring? I almost hang up when I hear the “hello” on the other end and begin to cry.

I hear her say, “Baby, is that you?”

“Yes, mom. Can I come home?”

Word count: 99





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[August 2014: 2nd place]