Running from fire
By: T.G. Ash
Prologue
I ran into the apartment and slammed the door. After only a millisecond of hesitation I dashed to my bedroom. I was safe, I was okay. But I was running out of time. I had to get my stuff packed and get my ass in my car before he showed up.
My hands trembled as I threw clothes in my worn out backpack. I mentally cursed myself for being so scared. I was a coward. Glancing at the clock I tried to figure out how long I had. 15 minutes, that's how long it would take him to drive from the bar parking lot to my apartment. Course the bar was really a 20 minute drive, but he didn't care much about speed limits or stop signs. I had to hurry, he knew me to well, he'd know where I'd go, he was to smart. I started to panic and packed faster. The only thing in my head was escape, escape now! There was no time to say goodbye to my family. There was no time to do anything but pack and escape. I didn't even pack my phone. He would trace me that way, I couldn't risk it. I was terrified out of my mind. Knowing that if I took too long or if I forgot something, there would be consequences. Really bad consequences.
I deep pounding started in my temple. Shit! The pain hurt. That was my fault. I made him angry. No! Scratch that, I made him furious. I thought I could get away with it. But while distracted with pulling the keys out for my car, he clocked me. There wasn't any blood, well not there anyway. But my knees were scraped. And blood dripped down my calves. I was missing a shoe. He had pushed me to the ground and started kicking me in the gut. He kept screaming how I was selfish, that I didn't care about how I made him look. All I did was groan. He only stopped when someone shouted in the distance. He started to step away, blocking me from the stranger's view. Taking a chance, I got up and as he swung around I kicked him in the balls and shot into my car. With the keys still in my hand I started the ignition and raced away. Then everything was a blur of actions. I was on autopilot. I knew he'd come looking for me, he never gave up without a fight. And it was always a painful fight. Pain being me, as I frequently had to wear long sleeve shirts to hide his attacks. People questioned me why I did but nobody knew. Nobody but him and I. but enough was enough, that day at work I realized he was dangerous. Well, more dangerous than I thought. I could take the pain, I always had. But something changed in the past couple of months with him. He was paranoid, and seemed to always have an unnerving look to him. The pupils in his eyes were always over dilated and I started to wonder if he was mixed up in criminal activities. I still didn't even know where he worked, let alone what he did. He had a short temper and seemed to lash out at anything. Nobody would hire that. He was gone a lot though, and from the 3 years I knew him I still didn't know where he went.
I glanced back at the clock. Shit! 2 minutes, 2 minutes and I would be screwed. This was my chance to escape and if I didn't get out now I would never survive. Hurriedly I got all my stuff and ran outside. I shoved all my stuff in my car and slammed the door. He was supposed to be out for the week, well at least that's what he had said. He had some business in Denver to take care. I knew this, not by him telling me, but from a conversation I overheard from him on the phone. But I guess his business didn't need him. Because he was home. And he was furious.
A truck door slammed a couple of yards away and I jumped. He was here. I could tell from the growl and stomping of construction boots. As quick as possible I flew into my car and shoved the key into ignition. Just as he got to my window, the car roared to life and the car auto locked. I could hear his snarl through the glass, and we briefly made eye contact. He was breathing heavy. Cold black eyes stared back at me. They were lifeless and were surrounded by a red haze as if he was still drunk. I didn't have to roll the window down to know he smelled of stale cigarettes. I backed the car off the drive and prepared to drive off to freedom. I glanced back at him just in time to see him mouth "when I find you, I'll kill you". I bolt of fear raced through me and I knew he could. As fast as I could I drove off not even looking at the speed limit. I was still shaking. But the farther away I got the better I felt. When I was about 1 mile away from the state line my body finally sagged back and I relaxed enough to turn the radio on. "Dog days are over" by Florence + the machine started to play just as I exited Arkansas. I was going to be okay.