Disclaimer: I do not own any of the star trek characters. This is a story rated "M" for a few violent scenes later on, as well as some sexual themes. Do not read if you are under the age of 16.

The light of the mid morning sun leaked lazily through the cracked white curtain. I lay on my side, watching the light sink lower as the sun rose in the sky. It inched so slowly, but I could make out its change in position. It took the shape of an obtuse triangle as it leaked through the curtains from the window that sat on the wall some distance from the foot of the bed.

The sleeping body next to me shifted slightly as a cloud passed over the sun, darkening the room slightly. I knew he was waking up soon, and if I was to do anything, it had to be now. With an anxious beating heart, I slowly get out of bed, ruffling through the drawers for any clothes I can take with minimum sound. Three pairs of pants, six shirts and a few tank tops. I could take some shoes and socks, but I don't know how well I'd be able to open the bottom drawer for underwear, since it's the one that creaked the loudest. I needed underwear though.

The drawer eased open, sliding and screeching ever so slightly. My heart pounded as I knew that if I was caught doing this, it would be my head in the cold bathtub. Maybe even the toilet. If I was lucky and begged, he'd only hit me a few times.

How could I have let him do this to me? I'm a human being. I can't let someone else dictate and control my life. This is going to end, and I have to end it.

The musky room brightened once more, and the jumbled and hung-over mass on the bed shifted again, grunting. Throwing what I could into my large duffle bag I had placed strategically out of sight the night before, I head down stairs for a few more essentials. I shuffle through the wallet left on the counter and take all the cash he had. $73 wasn't bad, and I could get a few tanks of gas if need be, but getting to the academy wouldn't take that much. The rest I could use for food.

I rush into the kitchen, hearing the pounding of my heart in my ears as I thought of the pain I would feel if he were to wake up right now. I had to leave. Now. I grab a few snack bags out of the fridge and pantry that which I had made and hidden in advance for this specific reason alone.

I knew there was nothing more I could take except for a few bottles of water, which I threw with the food into the duffle bag. I took one last minute to count my things. Six shirts, four tank tops, three pairs of pants, four pairs of granny panties, four pairs of my best lingerie, three bras, one old, ratty and comfortable, and the other two being rather nice. They were gifts from him. He mainly gave them to me for his own pleasure, however. This wasn't exactly a good feeling, wearing them, but I had to have them.

Along with several food bags, and two bottles of water. I had two pairs of shoes, sneakers and a pair of low heels that I only wore when out to house parties with him. If I had to look nice for my job that I was offered, I needed something like that. I had my few worldly trinkets that I had stored the night before as well as jewelry. They included a picture of my little brother with my mother, my wedding picture, a necklace from him, my favorite three sets of earrings, my wedding ring, a pill box from my sister, and my glasses case.

Looking at it, I realized I needed my own wallet with my keys and license, as well as toiletries.

Fuck the toiletries; I could just buy some cheap ones when I get there.

My wallet I had left on the counter next to his. Looking inside of my own, I found absolutely no money. Of course not, he was the only one who worked; therefore he said he was the only one able to carry money.

My keys.

Shit. They're still upstairs.

My heart was racing as I climb those wretched creaking stairs for what I hoped was the last time. Reaching the bedroom, I was thrilled to see the dumb bastard still asleep in bed. Our wedding bed, the bed he too often forced me into for his own pleasure. The bed he cheated on me in, several times.

And you let it happen. Because you felt you had no one, when all you had to do was run.

My heart was pounding in my ears. I couldn't take this feeling. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But all I could to was tip-toe my way across the room and grab my keys, holding them in my palm so as not to jingle them. They scraped the table, and he rolled over. I looked one last time at him, looking at his features.

The flashes of his angry face, as he paced and broke anything of value in our small home on the farm. The face I had once loved, and now just wanted to rip to pieces, as he had done to me so many times. The scars all over my body were a marking of what he had done to me physically. But now, the scars in my head were the ones that held me back from escaping this hell. However, that's all changing now.

I walk out of the bedroom. I walk down the hall, rounding the wooden boundary pole of the staircase, and noiselessly walk down the stairs, avoiding the parts that I know creak under weight. My heart was still pounding away in my chest, so much so that I could feel it thumping against my lungs. I found that as I went, my steps quickened. I needed to leave. Out. I needed out.

My duffle bag zipped, my pajamas still on, I walked out the door. In a last minute thought, I took off the wedding ring I had put on, and left it on the porch railing, where I had stood so many times contemplating the marriage and what I had gotten in to.

San Francisco. Here I come.

I unlocked the door to my car, a high riding SUV. It was the only car we had other than his truck. An insufficient gas guzzling car that was older than dirt. Most people had hover cars, but he had a huge obsession with the old wheel cars. So, that's what we had. I couldn't bear taking that damn truck. No, I'm not a country wife anymore. I'm going back to the city. Back to school, back to a place like where I grew up. I refused to associate myself with this place anymore.

As I pulled out of the dirt driveway, and the vast road appeared in front of me, I sat in the middle of the deserted street for just another moment. Looking back at the farm house, I took in the last three years of my life, and used all of my anger and energy to hit the gas pedal under my sneakers. The engine revved under what felt like my own power. The rubber of the tires burned and the car sped down the long dirt road. I was a long way from San Fran, but the more distance that I put between myself and that fucking house, the more secure I felt. The more… safe I felt… It was an intoxicating feeling that filled me to the core. Safety. Freedom. Holy shit. I'm finally free from the dark cloud over my life.

The car burned under me, with the ferocity that I felt in my heart. I turned on the radio. It was set on his favorite station, now transferred no longer by radio, but by advanced subspace waves, that was just put into the car some twenty years ago. The car was so old, that it had to be worked on for several days before we could actually take the car back.

But none of that matters anymore. I change the station to the old rock section, instead of country. I always hated country. I'll never have to listen to it again.