The young woman zipped up her duffle bag and smoothed out the wrinkles that could only be seen by her own eyes. She lifted her head and looked around the barren room. It feels like a lifetime of memories hitting her hard. Some she thinks of fondly but mostly she regrets ever having them.

She shouldered the black bag she walked from the now empty room. Her eyes sweeping the dingy apartment one last time before walking out the front door.

As she walked down the dirty staircase a door slams, followed by a man yelling. Clutching her bag tighter she quickened her pace. The man continues to yell but it is now accompanied by a woman yelling back. Just as she reached the end of the stairs, she's sure she heard something breaking against the door but she can't be sure.

She pushed the heavy metal door open, breathing in the fresh air. Around her she can hear the catcalls of the men sitting on the stoops beside the apartment building but she ignores them. She tosses her bag into the passenger seat of the small Honda before rounding the front of the car and climbing in.

As she nears the stop sign she takes a look in the review mirror. Trash in the streets, kids running around without shoes, people not even trying to hide the exchange of drugs and money.

She was leaving. And not a moment too soon.