This story is based on photos based on the Bill Sullivan Turnstile Photography Project.
This is it, she says to herself. I've worked long and hard to try to keep this marriage together, and for what? From making sure his clothes are ironed for work, packing his lunch, and even putting up a front for his parents to make it seem like our marriage is going well. And not once, does this ungrateful, obsessive controller, give me one thanks. She paces back and forth in her living room that's been turned into a office for his workplace, contemplating on how, and if, she's going to leave. Is it worth starting a new life, will he try to find her, where will she go? But if she stays, what's in it for her? Will she ever be able to regain her self-respect and chase after her goals? "I knew i should have listened to my mother", she screams out loud. She grabs her purse from the kitchen counter and rushes out the door.
As she heads for the nearest trolley station, her eyes began to tear up. How did this happen? Where did everything go wrong. She takes out her tight bun placed on top of her head,that he forces her to wear daily and shook her head side to side, leaving her hair sort of out of place and wild. Still no clue of where she was going.
Her eyes grew big as her phone began to ring. It was him, why was he calling? He never calls while he's at work. As she walked out the trolley doors, she repeatedly asked herself," do i answer it"?.... No! No, longer will she be tied down in this dreadful marriage she told herself. She threw her phone in her purse as she exited the trolley. This is it, I'm leaving with no intentions of turning back.
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