Authors Note: First person character change here. It's primarily going to be told through Sam's point of view throughout this story but sometimes, for it to work, especially in this case, it's got to have the other character too, so this is where this chapter comes in. Also, its a flashback chapter.

One Month Prior

I'd made him angry again, which never meant anything good.

It hadn't always been that way. When we first met things had been so perfect. Him, an actor, looking to make his mark on what he believed to be a failing industry and me, with my wide eyes and innocent view on the world wanting to make my very own mark on the world, but mine in terms of music.

Two very determined individuals, wanting to change the world with their art, their talent. Seems like a match made in heaven doesn't it? Then why was that match turning from the light into the darkness and was there any way to get it back to where it had been in the beginning?

The abuse had started six months ago. No one knows about it, other then the two of us but the more time that goes on where I don't speak out it just gets worse instead of better. It started out with small verbal attacks then progressing over time into the physical realm and now is an unhealthy combination of both, meant of course to hit me at my very core.

I know its not him talking when he says the hateful things he does, that something is going on deep inside of him but no matter how much I tow the line and make things easy and perfect for him, nothing seems to appease the darkness that lurks inside. I can't make things right and even though I've been blaming myself for all of it all these months, I'm starting to realize now that its not my fault. I didn't make him this way, and nothing I can do will stop it. It has to come from him. He has to be the one to change.

The last fight was my breaking point. I couldn't take it anymore. I was walking a tightrope. Spending every day walking on eggshells, so as not to set him off. I was drained of life, of energy and more then all of that, of the light that I'd had the day we met. With each physical beating he was killing me, the addition of the emotional, compounding it further.

I had to get out now before he not only stole my light, but also my life as well. As I picked myself up from the floor after our most recent argument, I knew it was now or never. I couldn't back down anymore. I had to run.

It had all started out innocent. He had asked me a couple of months before to take care of his bookings. Making sure he was set up for all the right auditions and from there the call backs. I had believed myself to be doing everything the way he wanted me to, right down to the letter. Oh, how wrong I was.

"You must be pleased with yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was supposed to have an audition today. For a very important role on a television series, one that I had been preparing for, for weeks. Guess what audition I missed today?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You didn't tell me about any upcoming auditions. You mentioned a call back but that was next week."

I felt the sting before actually realizing what had happened. He had hit me. This wasn't the first time. I knew I had brought it on, I had talked back. I was amazed I could actually feel anything anymore, given how many times it had happened.

"You're saying I'm wrong?"

"No! Of course not, I just don't remember it."

"Well if you actually paid attention when I talked then maybe you wouldn't forget. It also helps not to be a complete and utter moron."

He was in my face now, pushing me back up against the wall, his eyes never leaving mine. I was scared and he knew it. My heart was racing knowing that this is how it always started, sensing instinctively what would come next. He was far from done with me.

"I'm sorry!"

"Oh you're gonna be sorry." He shoved his weight into me then, knocking me to the ground, immediately following it up by crouching down to my level on the floor. "I don't even know what I'm doing with someone like you. You can't do anything right. You're a complete waste of air."

I felt his hands on my face, rubbing his fingers across my jawline. As much as I wanted to believe he wouldn't do it, I knew the way he operated when he was this angry. I knew what I had coming to me. When it happened though, it was a lot worse then I ever expected it to be.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just end the stupidity streak right now huh? Do the fucking world a favour and rid it of you."

His hands now around my neck, I felt them squeezing, each second a little tighter then the next. This was really happening. He was finally doing what he had been threatening to do for months. He was going to kill me. This is where I would die.

I clawed at his hands with my fingers, trying with everything I had to pry his hands away knowing that I was losing air, and then strength with each passing second that I couldn't get him off me.

I couldn't die this way. I couldn't let this be the last vision I saw before my time was up.

He released his hands then, leaving me gasping for air, struggling with everything in me to breath normally again.

"No Megan, you won't die here today. That would be too easy but maybe next time, you pay fucking attention when you're told to do something. You always make me do this."

He hit me then, a direct punch into my abdomen, the one area he knew wouldn't leave visible marks. He was smart that way of course. Never leaving a mark that someone would see and begin to question. The first time he'd hit me he hadn't been as smart and he'd left a black eye. It was a mistake he would never make again because it hadn't taken long before people began to question it. Another thing that I had paid for.

Struggling to maintain both of our careers on a daily basis, it was my job to be just as in the public eye as it was his. Having the image of a woman with a black eye that couldn't be explained away easily was not something he needed at this point in his career. Knowing this made him smarter about what happened the next time because with him, there was always a next time.

"I'm—sorry." I managed to choke out, the air finally replacing itself within my lungs.

"Yes you better believe you're sorry. Don't let it happen again."

He turned to walk away then and I thought I was finally safe. Or at least as safe as I could be given what had just happened. As I placed my hands on the floor to try and raise myself up, it happened.

He grabbed me, and pushed me back down to the floor. His hands not moving as the icy cold words poured from his lips.

"No one told you to get up. You're filth. A piece of crap that no one bothers to scrape off the sidewalk, so be a good little piece of shit and stay on the floor where you belong."

He had almost killed me this time. All of the times before had been brutal but when he placed his hands around my neck, taking my air away without a second thought I knew he had reached the point of no return with me.

He would gladly take my life if I didn't do something now to stop him. I had to get out of here. I had to get away from him once and for all. I knew how it would play out. I knew he would look for me, the same way he had the last time I had tried running away from him, but there was no other alternative for me now.

It was leave or be killed. I knew it just as easily as I knew my own name. I had to get out now.

I had sworn a few years before that I'd never go back, that I was better then the place where I grew up, but I had no other alternative now. Grabbing as little as I could as quickly as I could, I made my way out of our apartment.

It was time for me to go back to Lima.

It was time for me to go home.