My boots sloshed through the puddles in the gravel as I ran away from the bar toward the ocean. The Calamity Jane was only a block off the water across the highway, and in this storm there was nobody on the road. By the time I’d reached the water’s edge, I was soaked and breathing hard. The normally placid waters of the Gulf were choppy, waves crashing against the sandy beaches. The area was illuminated by the nearby pier, but I wanted only to be left alone. Every painful memory came roaring back, blindsiding me with their intensity. I felt dirty all over again, as if everything had happened yesterday. Waking up alone in a strange bed, sore in places that scared me; my thin dress sticking to my body, pasted there by unknown fluids. I had no idea where I was, no memory of the previous night, but I’d known I needed to get out of there. “Lacey, wait.” The memories continued to play through my head like a bad movie. Walking home along two miles of country roads, without shoes or underwear because I’d lost both somehow during the night.
