She never knew what she wanted to do with her life, only that this wasn’t it. An eternity of white picket fences and pot roasts was not in her future. She longed to bite into life, to feel its tangy juice slitherslide all the way down her chin and into the neck of her vintage James Dean tee shirt. This was a snow globe of a place, perfect from the outside, but cold and plastic and boring within. The kind of place that led to dreamless nights and dead-eyed days, just waiting for the end of this status-quo shuffle and the final grey heartflutter of death.
So she signed all of the papers and told her mother to come get her. She knew the ride would be hours of angerbabble about throwing life away and dying poor, but it was worth it. It was the only escape she had and she grabbed it with quaking hands, finally ready to start breathing.