hurt
i. stupid accusations.
You barely have time to close the door when he starts questioning where you've been, who you've been with and why you're late.
You put the keys on the side and answer truthfully. You tell him you've been to work and apologise for been late. (you kindly miss telling him about nick)
He doesn't believe you. He never believes you anymore.
He steps towards you and you step back. You refuse to make eye contact with him because you know what you'll see.
You'll see the devil in his eyes.
He accuses you of lying. He calls you a lying bitch. He backs you into the corner and you smell it.
You smell the sweat and the alcohol and you know what's coming next.
You feel the fear. You feel it in the pit of your stomach. You take a deep breath as he hits you.
Then everything goes black.
ii. broken bones.
You've only been with him three months and yet you've already lost count of the amount of broken bones he's given you.
Twelve (or was it thirteen?) broken ribs. He's broken your wrist twice and he's broken your cheekbone three times.
The injuries don't stop there either.
You've had cuts and bruises and internal bleeding. He's even dislocated your shoulder during one fight.
Then you drive yourself to the nearest hospital, give a false name and get patched up.
But you know they don't believe your silly excuses of;
I fell down the stairs. I walked into a door. Me and my friend were play fighting.
And as they watch you leave, they always wonder when you'll be back.
And usually it's dot on a week since your last visit when you return.
This time with more cuts, more bruises and more excuses.
And the cycle starts again...
iii. broken promises.
When he's sober (usually in the morning) he takes your hand and apologise for hitting you.
He tells you he didn't mean it. He tells you he'll change. He promises you he won't drink anymore.
(occasionally, he'll throw in; "if you hadn't have been late, i'd never have hit you." excuse)
Of course you've heard it all before and you know the outcome.
You know they're a bunch of stupid, petty excuses and he'll never change.
He won't stop drinking because drinking is his life. He has more respect for his alcohol then he does for you.
You know you'll never be free from the beatings and you know he's not sorry for hurting you.
You know everything he tells you are broken promises.
iv. trying to runaway.
You know you've got to leave. If you stay in this relationship any longer, you're going to die.
You come home early from work, he's down at the pub (like he is every night) and you know you've got to be gone.
You begin to pack anything, you don't care what you take or what you leave.
All you know is, if he catches you now, you really will be dead.
Halfway through packing your belongings, you hear the front door slam shut.
You freeze in fear and quickly kick the bag under the bed but he catches you.
He grabs your hair and takes you to the top of the stairs.
"Did you really think you could leave me?" He hisses.
You know this is the end. You know you're going to die.
v. beautiful white roses.
The first thing you see when you wake up is a bunch of white roses on the bedside table.
The curtains are open and it's both raining and sunny outside.
You're strung up to various machines and remarkably, you don't feel any pain.
(but that could be because they've pumped you full of morphine.)
You look back at the flowers, knowing who the sender is.
Nick sent them because he remembered what you told him.
(white roses are my favourite flowers.)
He's never been one to forget things has he?
And you remember that was one of the things you love about him.
vi. remembering the past.
You dose off sometime after three but when you wake, you're not alone.
It's Nick. He's here. For you.
He's holding your hand and it reminds you off the old times. (the times when you were happy together)
You thank him for the flowers and he laughs. He tells you he went to every shop in Holby to find the perfect bunch.
You know he's telling the truth, it's just the kind of person he is.
Your both lost in the silence before he squeezes your hand, kisses your forehead and tells you;
(we'll get through this together belle)
And you nod because you know you will.
vii. looking to the future.
Your shaking with nerves as you sit in the public gallery.
It's Michael's trial for attempted murder.
You've given your evidence and now it's time for the verdict.
The jury stands up and you take a deep breath, you close your eyes and pray.
Then they are asked the important question. (have you reached a verdict?)
You breath a sigh of relief when they say they have.
Then when the judge asks how they find the defendant, you feel sick.
If he's not guilty, you know he'll be coming after you.
(we find the defendant guilty) You feel like you could cry.
It's over. At last. He's going away for a long time.
Your nightmare is over, you can move on.
(but you know it'll take years for your emotional scars to heal)
a/n: i was given permission of kaitlin (kaite2010) to use her original character isabelle clarke.
you should read her story, it's wonderful. it's titled; let me help you, please.
if you like it enough to favourite, please leave a review with it, thank you. so what do you think?
i like it so please leave me some feedback.
