"Did you actually think that you could fool me with this crap?" I hear a voice yell, startling me as I was focused on my work. My head turns towards the direction of the voice. A familiar figure walks through the room. "I know you've been out all night!"

I look at him with disbelief. "Sam, I have literally been at home all night. I have two papers due tomorrow."

"Come on, Dawson. . ." He moans.

"I've got a first name. I've asked you multiple times to use it."

Sam reaches for my laptop. I attempt to keep it from his possession, pulling it towards me. His strength overpowered mine. As he took it from my hands, he slammed it shut and tossed it to the loveseat across the room.

I stand up, slowly moving towards the doorway to our bedroom. "You're drunk. Go to the kitchen, grab you some water, and-"

"Did you go out tonight?" He shouts.

The "No. I mean- I went to Austin's and helped him study- but that was all I did." I reach for the doorknob. "Why are you assuming I went out?"

"I helped him study." He hastily mocks me. "That's a load of bull. What'd he study? Your ass? Did you help him study that?"

"You're being irrational," I tell him defensively. I open the door slowly, taking a foot in before I speak. "Just sit down. You'll do something you'll regret." I walk in the bedroom, hearing his muffled voice yell.

"I'm already regretting something: falling in love with you!"

I close the door behind me. I stay along the door, sliding my back against the wood. Did he really mean it? No. Of course he didn't. The words still sat in my stomach like I have taken in something toxic. They tear at my insides causing my heart to slowly fail and my body to stop functioning. I feel myself go limp at his words. My head rests on my knee caps.

Sam continues to curse at me, saying things that he resents about me. He calls me words that mirror hatred. He stands on the other side of the door, threatening me to open up. His irrational anger is pushing him past his emotional barriers beginning to invade my personal barrier. I don't understand what's going on. He left home as happy and merry as he could've been. He's home now, physically threatening me and verbally abusing me.

What did I do to deserve this?

-:-

Sam hit me for the first time that night. I moved from the door eventually. He kicked it open with such force that the doorknob punctured my lower back. I was against the wall when he manually turned me around. He exclaimed his hatred and false accusations to me before his fist violently hit my cheek. He pushed me to the ground, threatening me to never do it again.

After this event, things never got better. At least three times a week, he would come home drunk. I was physically threatened each time but he put his hands on me two-out-of-three times. Right when he would leave, I began dreading the upcoming events of the night. Sometimes I would occasionally attempt to sleep, eventually waking up to a yelling Sam.

I still have yet to tell Austin nor my father. I am not looking forward to the day I have to tell two of the most important people in my life that the person that I've chosen to spend my life with has been abusing me.

My namey is Allyson Dawson. I am twenty-one years old. I'm engaged to Sam Miller. The one who has hurt me multiple times since he turned twenty-one: which was two days before he hit me for the first time. It's been three months.

Today, my mom, my best friend, and I are looking for my wedding dress. My wedding dress for the wedding that I do not even want to happen. I'm too afraid to tell Sam. My strength has been weakened to the lowest point possible. How would I tell my parents without telling them about our home life?

I pull myself out of my bed covers, setting my feet onto the carpet below me. I see the Sam is awake and already out of bed. He's probably going out tonight.

"Morning."

I walk into the kitchen, greeted by my fiancé who's leaned up against the counter. He sips on a cup of coffee, not moving his eyes from his phone screen. I acknowledge him with a small smile. I pour myself a cup from the pot.

"What time are your classes today?" I ask Sam while I added condiments to my drink.

He nonchalantly moves away from the counter. He begins to walk towards the door. "8. I need to leave. I'll see you later."

I wait a few minutes until I hear his car pull out of the driveway. I take a seat at our dinner table. I set my coffee down before resting my head onto my crossed forearms. Why am I wasting my time? Why am I getting married my junior year of college? Why am I marrying him?

I gather myself up before walking to our bedroom. This is the one day neither Austin or I have classes; and for some reason he wanted to help me pick out my dress. Of course, it has always just been me and him. I have never had a female whom I considered my best friend.

I texted him to make sure he was awake. It took him a good half hour to reply back, giving me the cue to call my mother that we're ready.

She's so excited about the wedding- ironically she is more excited than I am. She's doing most of the planning herself. It's a shock that she has yet to take notice of my extreme lack of effort. I just go along with it.

I can't gather up the courage to even tell my own mother that I do not want to get married. How am I supposed to tell my parents that my fiancé is abusive and cruel?

-:-

Here's to another try at this story. I hope this one turns out better. xx

~Thirlwall'sBowties