The blue-eyed girl had it all figured out.  She and her high school sweetheart made a plan. Together they would escape to a life of their own.

Her parents had warned him. “You’re making a big mistake,” they said. She cried because in their eyes SHE was the mistake. She worked and saved and paid for the wedding herself. Who needs that much hatred from ones’ own family?  Not her!

A small town means little distance between folks, but three miles was more than enough.  Mom and Dad never came around; well hardly ever.  She told herself she didn’t care.  Mostly she was right.

That blue-eyed girl had a plan.  College.  Poor people get Pell Grants: that was her ticket, plus the little bit of money she saved. Good grades and a full-time class load meant fulfillment lurked right around the corner. She was not a mistake!

He had a plan too and went off to work with his older brother. He worked all day and sometimes partied at night when he was out of town. Half of each month, he was somewhere else, but he put money in the bank and paid the bills. She was grateful for that.

School, church, work…school, church, work…school, church, work…How could life be so dull at the tender age of twenty? Wasn’t there more? She should have figured it out in high school. The clues were in her face.

“No,” he had said.  “Prom is a waste of time.  We don’t need to do that.”  She had agreed.  Mama wasn’t going to help her get a dress anyway.

“No,” he had said. “We don’t go to parties.  Too many assholes in this little town.”

She had questioned, “But aren’t they our friends?”

“We don’t need any friends when we have each other,” he had whispered. She accepted him at his word and smiled because he loved her. At least someone did.

School, church, work…school, church, work…school, church, work…Her future scared her.  It was bland, boring, predictable. She would finish school, get a job, work, have kids and grow old and wither away with boredom as he sat in his chair, drank his beer and crawled into bed at 9.  Every. Single. Day.

Of the rest of her life.

That blue-eyed girl had a night class in the big city. She drove home in the dark on Thursday each week. That night was different. Bad weather and her new cigarette habit weren’t the best combination. New smokers get high.  The body can’t handle all those chemicals in the blood and the brain gets dizzy. Dizzy brains don’t do well in rainy weather. Dizzy brains agree with sad hearts. Driving your car straight into a tree feels right.

There was no one there to disagree.