"Untitled"
Prologue
I can still remember the first time he hit me. We had been together for over six months, and he had always been faithful, always sober, always there for me. But he had shattered the already cracked surface that our relationship rested on.
Maybe it was my fault...
Every single one of my friends had told me, "No woman should ever be treated as you are." I have many feelings that stirred at this statement. Most of all... regret. If anyone had been there that night, they would have stopped the "injustice." But was it really an "injustice" after all?
Maybe my mouth ran faster than my mind could catch up. Maybe it was something I said or did. Maybe he was just sick of me. Maybe he had found someone new to love.
But when over six months progressed into another year, I was desperate, not just worried or careful. I was starving for escape. I cried my bloody, beaten, bruised body to unsatisfying sleep. I knew I would only awake to blood-shot, already red eyes that had been guarding me throughout dark, ever-lasting nights. The smirk would show his evil intentions.
There would be no Romeo for this Juliet.
No Prince Charming for this Cinderella.
No Beast for this Beauty.
Most certainly no petals for this blooming bud.
