“Barbra! Where the hell are you? Come out and fight like a man.”

His voice, angry and drunk, drowned in alcohol, banged through my ears as I tried to cover them. It didn’t work. The noise continued much more loudly. Things were being banged, pushed and shoved around in every room.

“Barbra!” His voice is closer to me. He’s going to find me and hurt me. I inched as far back into the corner of the cramped closet as I possibly could without trying to make to much noise. Even if I was as quiet as a mouse, my attempt fell. The lights from the bedroom crept upon me, a raging figure casting shadows against the closet wall on the side of me. The shadow replicated his position: furious with fists balled into one. He reached out, his manly hands groping me by my weak arms.

“You stupid sl**! I was looking for you! Why didn’t you answer me, huh?” I didn’t answer him. He shoved me into the hardened ground. My face hitting the surface, causing blood to drip from my nose. Instantly, I felt the pain of a foot being imprinted into my stomach, again and again. I felt his hands through my hair. They were very rough and dangerous.

“Ow! Stop! You’re hurting me! Stop it David! Please!” I begged and begged, I knew that’d only make it worse. I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He was way to strong for me. I was weak and useless against him. We both knew it.

He was still pulling me by the hair. “Get up.” He yelled at me. I did as was told. It’s like I was a sick puppy with a harsh master, wanting to please them every chance I got. That’s what it’s like with, my boyfriend, David. I’m the sick and pathetic puppy, while he’s the unjust master. I can’t ever please him. No matter how hard I try. I just can’t.

Right then I received a blow to my right eye, causing blindness. A slap to the face came right after.

The beatings continued until about 8:20pm. It was 8:10pm when he got here.

My body was in so much pain after he’d stop a few minutes ago. I couldn’t move at all. The pain was unbearable. He’d definitely done his worse if not kill me. Lifting my head steadily off the painted red floor due to my blood, I looked around, craning my head in different directions to make sure he wasn’t in the room. He wasn’t. It was empty. Only me and a depressed heart were here. I had to leave before he got back. Or he’d hurt me some more. He was probably out drinking again with some of his buddies. Getting wasted was always Davids’ way of letting out his anger and dealing with things. He takes all his frustrations out on me. He says I’m always doing something wrong.

Knowing how many minutes I had left on the clock, I tried to get up. The pain was all over my body, from head to toe. Ignoring it, I lifted myself off the floor. Walking like I was drunk, I leaned onto the counter to hold my balance. Gravity wasn’t with me today, or any other day for that matter. I spotted the silver car keys spread out upon the junky counter. It really did fit into its surroundings-with all the papers that were scattered, day old crumbs, and sour orange juice. I reached for the noisy counter, the cold metal soothing the fire inside my palm. I reached for my purse and my half charged phone. Good thing I had a car charger, right?

I stumbled my way to the door. The door of freedom. I was leaving and I wasn’t going to come back. Ever.

I opened my doorway to freedom, got into my car and drove off into the night, never looking back. I’d finally had enough.