Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Warning: Mentions of rape and physical abuse.

All mistakes are mine.

I don't know when it happened. One day you were there and never left my side; I never questioned why, that was my first mistake. You came into my life at a perfect time; I was lonely, homesick for a place that I could never go back to. You gave me the love I craved, you made me feel like the world was mine and you would do anything to give it to me. I was young, reckless and naïve. I believed it every time you said that you only did things to protect me, even when my friends started disappearing from my life because I spent all my time with you. In retrospect, I should have seen the signs, but I was too wrapped up in you to really open my eyes. You were possessive to the point of insanity, fingers pressing to skin, so tightly that there was never a day when I didn't wear their imprint on my skin. Then the strikes began, we had been dating for three months. I remember thinking that it was all a nightmare, I would wake up, but the pain was there, so vivid and horrible. I was sure that if I apologized that if I explained that the reason why I was with Riley that day was because I was helping him pick a present for his girlfriend. It was useless trying to say anything, the rage had taken it's hold and I was whom you hated most.

You always made sure not to break any bones; you didn't want the police to be involved, so taking me to the hospital was out of the question. I woke up in bed, still bloodied and hurting. I heard you in the shower, I thought about running. Where would I go? You were all I had, you made sure of that. The door to the bathroom opened and there you were in only a towel. I was attracted to you the moment I met you and It was no wonder why, you were everything I wanted physically. Tall, lean and so beautiful.

You all but ran to me, hands reaching out, I flinched away. You apologized for everything, caressing my face, kissing the cuts and bruises that littered every place on my body. I laid there, numb to everything, I didn't startle when you suddenly picked me up and carried me to the tub, filled to the brim with water. I suddenly hoped that you would drown me, at least then I'd be free of you. You would never let me go, there was no point in running, I was trapped.

You didn't murder me in the tub as I had hoped, you carried me out once you had washed all of my body with caring hands, a stark contrast to how you had been last night. I was no longer stupid enough to believe that you would change, I had been your prisoner for a year; I knew every facet of your face and your rage was part of you.

Time passed once more and I deteriorated with it. I no longer cared to eat. I was slowly trying to end myself. You would come home late into the night, reeking of another woman's perfume, drunkenly stumbling into the room you kept me locked in. You would use me up and collapse beside me. So many times I would stay awake and thought about ending your life, I could take the pillow you slept on and smother you slowly. But what then? What would I do? Who would love me then? You had taken everything that there was to love and spit it out until it was unrecognizable.

The breaking point came two years later; you beat me until you couldn't anymore. You cursed my name, blow after blow you gave me. I was numb to all of it, that was until I heard a bone on my rib snap, the pain returned full force and for a minute as I was curled on the floor sobbing I caught your eyes and I saw the realization of what you had done sink in.

You took me to the hospital, something that went against your rules. You apologized the whole way there. I barely registered your words, too concentrated on the pain inside me. Once there, you identified yourself as my husband. You told them that I had been mugged and beaten by the culprit. I had been alone and called you once the ordeal was over. I thought it a stupid story seeing as my body was covered in week old scars and that any sane person would have called 911 first. You had always been a flawless liar, so when they didn't question you further, I wasn't surprised.

Waking up in another room other than the one I had spent three years of my life in was a shock. Everything came rushing back and I frantically looked for you but you were nowhere to be found. I heard an incessant beeping to my left and I turned seeing the heart monitor. Until then I hadn't realized how fast my heart was beating. A nurse rushed in and saw my wide eyed look, she reassured me that everything was okay and that my husband had gone to get something to eat and would be right back. My heart didn't decelerate it's constant drumming, if anything it increased and she noticed. She looked at me with narrowed eyes and asked if someone had hurt me, I remained silent. She couldn't help me. She stayed there talking to me in hushed whispers, assuring me that I could tell her the truth. I never said a word.

I felt you the moment you entered the room, my body had become attuned to you, like predator and prey. You were always so perceptive and you saw the situation for what it was, you spoke softly to the nurse and whatever you said appeased her enough to leave. You turned to me as soon as she stepped out of the room and smiled at me with dead eyes. The numbness settled in. You knew I would never tell, I had given up long ago.

I was released a week later, you cared for me. You spoon fed me and held me close, it no longer felt like anything to me anymore, your touch left a sour taste in my mouth.

It was a Thursday night and you were still not home, I knew that meant another round of drunken beating would take place.

I got my things in order, underneath the mattress I had hidden my priced possession.

Two bottles of morphine and a syringe. It hadn't been hard to sneak it out of the hospital.

I prepared myself, I knew I had to be fast. I couldn't afford to become drowsy before I could administer the second vial.

One pinprick, then another.

I was free.