Exotica

~ Thank You ~

♡ Amini Howard ♡

My hands rest on my hips as my eyes scan the dim bedroom, making sure that I had placed everything back in it's original spot since I of course didn't want to leave behind a mess.

Unzipping the suitcase, I count off everything I had packed. I really want to make a second trip back so I had to make sure that I had everything I needed. "Is that everything?" I ask myself as I remove my hair from my face, tossing it over my shoulder.

"I think so." I murmur, pulling my shirt away from my hot skin. This Florida heat was honestly getting the beat of me. We were in the middle of a heat wave and having the air conditioner on full blast honestly made no difference. My skin was so sticky no matter how many times I showered in cold water and my hair that took nearly two hours to straighten was going back to it's original state of thick curls from the humidity.

After counting off my things three more times I zip it up and pull it off the bed resulting in a loud thud. "Shit." I exhale, pulling it out of the bedroom and down the hallway. I never noticed how fucking heavy clothes can be nor the amount of clothes I had.

"This is ridiculous." I huff as I look over my shoulder at the staircase that I was a few feet away from. There was no way on God's green earth that I was going to be able to get this one down the stairs successfully without hurting myself. It felt like I was pulling a baby elephant and no I'm not exaggerating. This is honestly heavy as hell and I'm mad at myself for it.

Once reaching the staircase I pull it one last time, nearly falling in the damn process. "Gotdamn." Resting my hands on my knees, I inhale and exhale as I try to regulate my breathing. I've gotten so out of shape since I've stopped working at the club. That was honestly my only way of getting exercise because I'm honestly lazy as hell when it comes to working out and balancing my weight.

I grab onto the black handle, pulling it closer to my body before pushing it to the edge. With the switch kick of my foot I watch it tumble down the stairs. Was I really that lazy to take my time and take it downstairs the proper way? Yes the fuck I was and I'm not ashamed of it.

Once I reach the bottom of the staircase I roll the sleeves of my shirt up and walk over to the desk where the leter that took me nearly two weeks to write laid. It's never taken me two weeks to write a letter but this letter had to be written slowly, I had to slow my pace so I could write my raw feelings, all of my feelings. My intentions were to verbally express how I felt since I've mastered on how to do that somewhat but at the same time I felt like my words would be pointless and overlooked so it was just better for me to write them down.

I pick the letter up, folding it before slipping it into the cream colored envelope that was laying right beside it; licking the ends of it before sealing it and folding it. Slipping it into the pocket of my jean shorts, I look around the neat dining room for my car keys.

---

After I packed everything and tossed them into the trunk I set out on an hour drive to my mother's house. Windows down with the wind blowing in my mane of hair as the music blast through my ears, smoothing me.

I wasn't scared nor was I anxious in doing this because for the first time in a long time I was confident with my actions, there was no second guessing myself or letting my mind wander off into thinking the absolute negative instead of positive.

I felt grounded with my actions and that's because I truly was.

"If you want, we can be runaways, running from any sight of love." I sing along, turning the volume on my radio louder as I approach a stop light. Glancing at the time on my dashboard I had about an hour and a half to spare which hopefully would be the right amount of time.