She lay on the floor of his apartment. Lying on the her side, tears fall to the floor from her red eyes. Blue bruises blotted over her-would be-flawless cream skin. He lay upstairs in their bed, sleeping deeply. He often did after having his way with her. He often came home drunk ad mad at her. His fists were beat her face and then he would force himself on top of her. She knew she should fight back, but he was always stronger than her, even drunk.
So she was forced to endure it. Time after time, she endured the beating and the pain. All because she thought he was the one. Because he had been there when she needed someone. He opened her up to the world. And now he was using that against her.
She sighed and pushed herself upright. Her sore hands reached out and picked up her clothes from the ground. She stood up from the hardwood floor, walking up the stairs to the second landing. Each step was filled with pain and misery as she walked down to the bedroom. The door knobbed turned slowly in her hands. She gently pushed the door open and entered. Each step was quiet, so not to induce another beating. She quietly slipped into the bed beside him. His strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer into his chest. She closed her eyes as the last tear fell onto her pillow.
As the moon rose high into the sky, Lindsay Monroe's evening came to an end, as it had for the past year.
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how's that for a prologue?
no i can't spell.
i own nothing!!