Abuse is NOT love. Abuse is about control.
-Domestic Violence Survivor
"Why do you make me do this? I love you, but you just won't listen to me and do as I ask," Royce said to me.
He had hit me an hour earlier, leaving me on the floor of our kitchen, surrounded by the broken glass of the plates he had smashed in the process. I don't remember what I did to set him off this time, but it must have been something horrible, or else he would not have done that to me. Royce loved me and would do anything for me.
"I'm sorry, Royce. It won't happen again. I'm sorry," I said to him. My voice was wary because I didn't know if he was still in his mood. Not wanting him to go off on me, I carefully stood up, and feeling woozy, began to pick up the shards of the broken plate.
"Yeah, you're right it won't happen again, because you're not leaving the apartment until I say so. You won't leave unless I say you can, and that won't be for a long, long time." Royce said this last part with so much venom, and it scared me because I realized he wasn't the man I had fallen in love with five years ago.
He had become a man who was mean, and cruel, even evil at some points. Royce was unrecognizable.
Two Months Later...
I scrubbed the blood off of the tiles as hard as I could, but it was caked in the cracks by the time I was conscious enough to realize the mess I'd been making in the bathroom. Royce had pushed me down on the floor because I didn't clean the bathroom the way he liked it. I was so dumb. I should've have checked, then double checked to make sure that the house was exactly the way Royce wanted it to be.
Two months since the accident where he'd hit me in the kitchen, I did exactly as Royce had told me to. I listened to him more than I had, and only left the apartment when he said I could, which was only when he was with me. I was the perfect girlfriend, and I hoped Royce would be happy with me. It was the day of our anniversary, and I didn't want him to get angry with something I had done, or rather, did not do.
Deciding that using bleach would not be a good idea if I wanted to have time to get myself ready for Royce coming home from work, I made a mental note to finish scrubbing the bathroom floor in the morning. Looking at the time, I realized Royce would be home in a little over an hour.
Oh my god, I thought, I'm not going to have enough time. I could feel myself getting all panicky like I did when I was not going to make Royce happy.
Pulling the roast out of the oven, I made sure the oven was off, and set the table the way my boyfriend asked me to. Searching for the clock, I saw it and breathed a sigh of relief. I
was going to have enough time after all. With five minutes to spare.
Those five minutes waiting for Royce to come home were torture. I spent all of it reevaluating everything I had done and reassuring myself that it would all be okay. It had to be okay. I had done everything in the house exactly the way Royce wanted it to be.
I could hear the keys in the door, and Royce walked in, looking tired. I would make sure not to make him angry tonight. Rising to greet him, I smoothed my dress over and looked at the things around the house, checking them over for one last time, ensuring that everything was perfect and in place.
"Hi, Royce," I said to him as he put his jacket and work-related things on the couch. I could tell, even from here that today had not been a good day for him at his law office. Royce was a defense attorney. He represented people who had been charged with doing really, really bad things. I never wanted to know the exact things those people had been accused of doing, and Royce never bothered to tell me.
"Hello, Isabella. Can I please just eat my food? I'm really tired and didn't eat anything at work today because my case load was so large." He says this last part snapping at me, and I flinch because Scott could go off at me with violence again.
"Of course, dear. Everything is on the table and ready to go," I replied in a small voice. Royce didn't like it when I spoke too loud, lest he think I was getting an attitude with him. He walked over to the table, and I followed him. Royce sat down, and promptly began to eat the food I prepared without so much as a "Thank you" thrown my way. I grew angry, but I didn't want Royce to get angry as well.
"So, darling, what did you do today?" Royce said after he had put away a good amount of food, and after I calmed myself down. I took a deep breath, and smiled at him before I spoke.
"I went to the online store, and picked out some clothes for you to wear to your Christmas Party at work. Then, I just cleaned and cooked. Do you like the food?" I made sure to smile at the end of the sentence too, because Royce wanted me to always be happy. I guess I said the wrong thing, because he got angry with me.
Oh, God.
He cleared the table with one arm, and then yelled at me, "DO YOU THINK I HATE THE FOOD?! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO DO THIS TO ME, TO, TO US?!" Scott was furious, and I could do nothing to stop his rampage.
"Royce, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I thought you hated the food. I was just trying to make conversation." I was crying now, on the floor, because I wanted him to stop, and he was terrifying me right now.
Royce picked me up by the shoulders and threw me across the living room, and my body hit the mirror in the living room. I could hear it crack, and knew that I was going to be incredibly sore after this.
If I survived Royce's fury.
He walked towards me. I don't know how I could see him, or why I was still conscious after I flew through the air. Bending down, he said to me, "I'm going out. This better be gone when I get back." Then, he turned around, grabbed his jacket, and left, slamming the door behind him. I flinched, and my sobs became more audible with every passing second.
I got up, and decided that today was the last day that I would subject myself to Scott's rage. Looking at the glass, I walked to the bedroom and packed a bag. I put a variety of clothes in the suitcase, and unlocked the safe that Royce thought I didn't know about, let alone have the code to. Inside the safe was about fifteen thousand dollars and the keys to my old car, back from when Royce still allowed me to leave the apartment.
It'll feel so good to get back in Betsy, I thought as I put shoes on and walked to the door. Betsy was my baby. A '98 Beetle, she was old but not in too bad shape. I'd gotten her in my favorite color, navy blue and she was perfect.
I opened the door, and although I had nowhere to go, I was leaving this place.
Author's Note
Hi, y'all! This is my first book here on Fanfiction. I hope you liked the first chapter of Finding Yourself! I don't have a set schedule, though I will try and update at least once or twice a week, but never more than that. I know that Bella's departure was not exactly realistic, but for the sake of the story, it had to be like that.
Cami
