Shelly's Story - Part 1
I don't know why my hometown is called Boonland, but it's the perfect name for the place. If you want to see a classic example of the boondocks, it's Boonland, Texas.
Hi. My name is Shelly Ericson. This is my story. It's a little unusual.
I can't complain about my childhood. My parents made a nice life for me, and I was a good student in school. Notice I said “good,” not “great.” It's not that I'm not smart, but my mind was usually on other things. Beer, boys, and late night drives in my pick-up truck seemed more important than studying at the time. And even that stuff wasn't much better.
Yep, Boonland was a safe, peaceful place to grow up. It was also boring as hell.
My escape from the monotony was learning how to take care of myself. I started taking self-defense classes as a little girl, and never stopped developing those skills. My daddy taught me how to shoot a gun when I was 12. While the other girls were going gaga over the teen idol flavor of the week, I was practicing throwing knives at a tree in the backyard.
I signed up for the Air Force after graduation, because I thought it would be the quickest ticket out of Boonland. I'll admit it - I had visions of excitement and adventure in my head, too. Well, the Air Force was fine, but it didn't turn out to be what I wanted after all. I didn't re-enlist when the time came, and I suddenly found myself...back in Boonland.
I needed something, but I didn't know what it was. I had been taking classes while I was in the USAF, so college looked like a good option. I applied all over the country, not really caring where I ended up as long as it was somewhere else. The waiting felt like it dragged on forever, but then I got one letter of admittance in particular that changed everything.
One month later, I said good-bye to Mom and Dad and boarded a plane bound for Major City.
TO BE CONTINUED