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Girls Like Me
She slammed the screen door behind her, and put her trembling hand to her head as she shrunk to the stained, carpet. Realizing she was running out of time before he would return home, she quickly attempted to compose herself and ran towards the bedroom. The worn, wooden door was stuck as usal but today Carla didn't have the patience. She let out a frusterated sigh and shoved the door once more causing it to fling open. Carla spun around in place, grabbing her soft brown hair in anxiety. "He's gonna be here soon," she took a deep breath and added," I can do this."
Carla pushed back the tattered, blue cloth that was serving as a closet door. The small, dusty closet displayed neatly hung men's clothing, and freshly polished dress shoes. She had to let out a laugh. None of Carla's posessions were in there. Her clothing was stuffed into a small drawer by the bed. She searched the bottom of the closet for a bag, and soon found one burried under a countless number of portfolios filled with pictures. Carla felt as though she would be sick.
Grabbing the bag she found, Carla moved to the other side of the bed and opened up her drawer. She stuffed her cheap, old clothes into the bag and then moved on to the dresser. Carla went over to the white, chipped dresser which contained, drawers, upon drawers of his belongings. She carefully pushed it away from the wall and reached into the small space. Carla blindly felt around in the grime filled crevice for her money.
When Carla met Ryan, she had nothing more than a plastic bag filled with two shirts and a tooth brush. Ryan took her off the streets, and gave her a place to live. Maybe they weren't the best living conditions, but Carla was grateful. It wasn't long before they were together and that is mainly why she put up with his controlling behavior. She had been saving money though. Carla learned the hard way that you can't depend on anyone.
The screen door flung open abruptly and Carla jumped. She immediately got up off the floor and put the dresser back in place. Carla grabbed her bag and desperately looked around for a way out. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with Ryan.
"What the ---- are you doing ?" Ryan questioned as he made his way into the bedroom.
"I'm leavin' Ryan. I got some money saved up, and I'm gonna get outta here."
"You mean this money ?" he rhetorically asked, while producing a crumbled roll of dollar bills.
"I was savin' that in case I needed it."
"Needed it for what ? Don't I take care of you ? I mean c'mon Carla. I gave you a roof over your head, food on your plate, a bed to sleep in.."
"No. It's not like that and you know it. You're..."
"I'm what ? Not good enough for you ? Psh. You're trash. C'mon baby, your from the streets, look at me."
Carla looked at Ryan. She looked at his new black suit, his clean cut hair, and black leather shoes. He just came from the office, fooling everyone. She thought about it for a moment and then said, "No. You aren't good enough for me. You're the trash. Do you think I'm stupid ? I hear people talkin' and what they are sayin' is that you took pictures of those lil' girls."
Ryan just laughed. "You can't prove a ---- thing and you know it."
Carla began to cry. "I can't believe you. You're gonna lie right to my face. You're honestly gonna tell me that if I don't look in that closet right now, I'm not gonna find pictures of those girls ? You're sick, and I'm leavin'."
Ryan tried to block her as she made her way to the bedroom door. "Sweetie, you can't leave me," he nervously said, "what about everything we've been through ?"
Carla pushed him away and hurriedly walked down the hall. Then she stopped, and looked straight at the peeling walls. "I'm not gonna pretend that what you did never happened. I was one of those girls once, and I'll be ------ if I let another one of you creeps go on like you didn't do a thing wrong."
With that said Carla opened up the screen door and nearly stomped down the decaying cement steps leading to the path. She didn't know what she was going to do, but it felt like all of her years of suffering were finally being vindicated.
"Carla ! Wait !"
Carla stopped in her tracks still facing the road infront of her.
"I'm sorry," Ryan said while hanging in the doorway.
Carla laughed, and turned around to look Ryan right into his dark, black eyes that she once found so attractive. "Sweetie, save it. The cops are already coming."
The cops turned the corner as Carla crossed the street. More than anything she wished that she could see Ryan's face as the cops put the handcuffs on him. She wasn't looking back though, that part of her life was over. For once in her life Carla wasn't going to be controlled, she wasn't going to be the victim, and she wasn't going to be played. Carla was going to be the one to leave.