Chapter Two
My heart accelerates within my chest as I hear his footsteps growing louder, the sound reverberating through the flat. The black sleeves on my shirt get pulled down clumsily and I hiss when they brush against the cuts. I don't have enough time to cover them properly, for now sleeves will have to suffice.
I pull myself up from the corner of the bathroom where I laid cowering and hurry from the room not bothering to hide the fact I've been crying. I find him in the kitchen staring at the empty table in the corner not allowing his face to convey any sort of emotion. He slowly turns around to face me, his eyes slowly becoming darker and more sinister. Then it hits me.
Shit.
This is not going to end well. I search my mind hurriedly, filtering through everything, seeking out a decent excuse.
"I..." But my mouth goes dry and I'm unable to form any words.
Cato's looking at me expectantly, but we both know that no matter what I say it wont evade the inevitable.
"Kat," My name on his tongue sends a shiver down my spine, "I do everything for you and all I ask in turn is that you tidy my house and have food prepared for when I arrive home. Do you really think that's too much to ask of you? Especially after everything I have done for you?"
I shake my head at him.
"Good. So why has this not happened?"
I open and close my mouth numerous times, I see his facial expression grow darker each time it does.
He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head, "Why must you almost make everything so difficult?" Then Cato chuckles darkly.
He enjoys this. Every second of this taunting. The fact that I loathe it just heightens the fun. I used to be his love, his one and only but now, now I'm just his punching bag. A way to get rid of a hard day at work or even a way to fill the long hours at home with some entertainment.
My muscles tense, anticipating the first hit, awaiting the impact. The blemishes on my arm become irritant, but I hardly notice them over the pounding in my ears and I dare not move or it will be an excuse for him to strike. After all it is just his self-preservation.
"I'm feeling somewhat, generous tonight, so you can go but," Taking a step closer, he narrows his eyes at me, "If it ever happens again just know, there will be serious repercussions." As a warning he forces me back against the counter then turns sharply and heads into the living room.
It's the same everyday, he comes home, eats the dinner I make, mindlessly watch TV then drinks himself into an oblivion and that's when the real fun begins. He'll actively seek out the smallest thing I've done wrong or that doesn't meet his standards and then I'll be made to pay. I wish I could say it's not his fault, that he's inebriated, he doesn't know what he's doing but it's all the same even if he hasn't been drinking.
I quickly get to work on preparing a beef stew for dinner ignoring the throbbing sensation in my arms but it seems to explode with the smallest of movements. Trembling, I take a bowl out to where Cato sits in the living room, praying that it meets his standards, and he just snatches it from my hands without lifting his attention from the TV. Maybe it's not going to be that bad tonight or is this just the calm before the storm? Not wanting to chance anything I move hurriedly back into the kitchen.
Precariously, I get a bowl from the cupboard trying not to be too eager in my movements and avoiding any clanking , I place it on the marble island counter top. It's been days since he's let me have a proper meal because it's just a waste of good money and food when used on me I only get the odd cracker here and there. Then, slowly I use the ladle to scoop some of the mouthwatering stew into my bowl and I can see the steam rising from the dish. I inhale the scent deeply, savoring every second of it because if I get caught, rest assured, I wont be enjoying anything this good for a while.
I take the bowl over to the small two seater table and pull out a chair, wincing when it scrapes against the floor tiles. Once sat a breath is released from my mouth and I pick up my spoon closing my eyes to further enhance the flavor.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you," The spoon slips from my grip and lands with a thud.
This is not good. My eyes remain shut, too afraid to see his endless black pools that are rarely filled with anything other than rage or lust. For a moment the world around me doesn't exists and I'm back with my family listening to my Dads stupid jokes.
"How dare you come in here and eat the food that I earn, that I pay for, whilst you sit on your ass all day doing nothing but taking this life for granted!" He spits the words in my face I hear something shatter against a wall which I assume to be my bowl. Although can't see him through my closed eyes, I can sense how close he is, fell his breath caressing my face making me whimper,
"You never show any respect for me," As he's saying this something unexpected in me just snaps and I push out of my chair now standing in front of him but instead of cowering, for once, I'm stood tall. How dare he say I show no respect for him?f " But without me you are nothing, you are alone, you have no-one." His breathing is steady and evenly paced out whereas mine is coming in as short ragged burst. Then I hear footsteps growing distant and heading towards where I assume to be the lounge.
Oh no, I've done it now.
I run after him stumbling into the couch. He's stood by the fireplace moving a marble into the glass vase on there.
Why did I think it was a good idea to eat? Stupid, stupid, stupid. I can never do anything right.
"I'm feeling generous tonight, so you are only getting one for eating my food," Generous? Is that why there are already five marbles in there?
He turns to face me, his eyes scarily calm, "What do you say?" He's reprimanding me now as if I'm a little child.
I must of taken too long to answer because he takes a threatening step forward, "What do you say?" He repeats slowly.
"T-, Th-, Thank you."
"Good. Now if that ever happens again, just know, I wont be so kind with the punishment," I nod my head in reply as he moves back to the couch.
I shakily take a seat next to him, not seeing, not hearing, just fearing tonight when he counts up the marbles I've collected.
"Kat, come here," Cato calls from his bedroom. One deep breath, in and out, then another and another.
I managed to get one more marble since earlier, for what I don't know. I get them for the simplest things now. When he first started this I thought he was joking so I did everything I could to get marbles, it was just a game. Come the end of the day, I found out how serious he really was.
When I walk in he has the vase of marbles on his bed and he stands by it looking at me expectantly. One by one he removes them counting, just like I'll have to do in a minute.
"I'm so disappointed in you Kat. Seven. Seven marbles. Why must you put yourself through this? You used to be such a good girl," Without any warning he slaps me across the face and it stings a little. Then he does it again.
"Count!"
In an emotionless voice I begin counting and by the time he gets out his belt my body has shut down. I feel numb. Everything begins to blur and only the sound of leather meeting flesh reminds me of where I am. The number seven comes and goes passing through my lips but he does not relent. Eventually I succumb to darkness.
A bright light peeks through my eyelids and my bed is very uncomfortable. I hear a banging resonating from somewhere in the house and I assume it's my Dad making his chocolate chip pancakes. Slowly, I drag my eyes open to be hit with the sudden realisation of where I am. Right. Cato's house/prison. The door opens and in storm he walks in carrying a glass of milk which is placed on the floor beside me. That must be why I'm so uncomfortable.
He looks me up and down as if I'm some piece of crap, "Cover yourself up, you look disgusting."
I look down and barely notice I'm naked. Hardly surprising When I first met Cato, I wouldn't have pegged him for someone who takes advantage of unconscious girls, but then again, I never thought he would turn abusive either.
Once I'm dressed in my tattered clothes I look around to see what my life has come to. From an outsiders point of view, I probably look like some twenty-something who can't even stand up to their own boyfriend, controlled by fear. That's most likely right. But I don't want to be that person anymore. I want my family back. I want my job back. I want my life back. Not the one where I'm broken, stuck, confused. Why can't I have my fight back? The one that led me into this mess. If she could see me now she'd tell me to escape any way I can, in fact she did. My mum begged me not to move in with him, told me he wasn't right I was to stubborn to listen, thought I knew best, I was only eighteen at that time and stupidly thought I was in love too. But I'm going to listen to her now, I'm going to break free of this monotonous cycle that is called my life. How am I supposed to get out of here though? I look around the room I'm in and search desperately for something that holds the answer.
First I'll need money.
I tried to escape once before, I gathered any money I could find and stuffed it into a sock. Before I could even walk out the front door he caught me and made sure I was too scared to try again. The Doctor was told I fell down our stairs. The house doesn't even have stairs.
I locate the lose floorboard I put the money under and stuff it in my bra.
Second I need a weapon. Well I can't say I have any of them lying around here and I doubt a butter knife will be much help. It's then that I notice in my hurry to lift the floorboard I knocked over the glass. Great, that'll be another marble. Wait. The glass! I could smash that and use it as a weapon!
I walk quietly over to the bathroom with glass in hand and flush the toilet at the same time as I smash the glass against the top of it. Standing still for a few minutes with bated breath I wait for any sign that he heard. After I'm sure I throw open the bathroom cupboard and look for anything else I could use. Deodorant, that will do.
I figured if I had any chance of escape it would be at night, then I can hide in the dark and Cato will be drunk.
I walk up where he's sat on the couch once again staring at the TV screen with glassed over eyes. The spray and glass are hid behind my back, "I'm sorry I've been so childish lately Cato," He looks up to me startled and shocked, "I don't mean to be, I've just be really tired."
"Do you really think that's a good enough excuse?"
I take a step forward and embrace him making sure he doesn't notice the items in my hands, "I really do love you," He starts to losen his hold but I tighten mine keeping him there.
It's now or never. I pull the glass back far enough then thrust it into his shoulder. As a reflex he releases his hold on me, "Ahhh, you little slut. What was that for?" I spray the deodorant in his eyes which immediately turn red and inflamed. That's when he loses it.
"You Bitch," He screams and launches himself at me taking use both to the ground and then he locks me in his steel arms. I can't hear any of the obscene words he throwing at me over the the pounding in my ears. I push the glass further into his shoulder in order to loosen his grip so I can slide out. What do I do now? Cato's rolling around on the floor and I'm unarmed, I didn't counter this part into my plan.
I look around helplessly, begging silently for some way of escape. If I don't get out here now I doubt there will be a tomorrow for me. Out of the corner of my eye the vase catches the light and grabs my attention. Maybe if I use enough force I can knock him out for long enough. Once I'v got it securely in my hand something deathly cold warps around my ankle and sends goosebumps crawling up my skin, and then I'm sprawled out on the floor empty handed. No, no,no, this isn't supposed to happen. The pressure around my ankle increases and I cry out as a sharp pain pierces through my leg.
The vase is just within my reach and I roll it closer using my fingertips, looking over to Cato, who is led on my lower half of my body preventing me from moving, I see his eyes darken with understanding and locking on the vase. He struggles to reach up and grab it but then see's it as useless and takes to clawing at my legs creating new holes in the material. Taking a deep breath I hope for the best and bring the vase down to connect with the back of his head. It shatters around him and mixes with red liquid that's on the carpet, the marbles bounce across the floor and the slowly come to a halt My breath is coming out in heavy, quick gasps. His head lolls to the side as the rest of his body becomes limp on top of me. Using the residue adrenaline running through my blood stream, I manage to roll out from under his body although. I try to stand but quickly realise my legs are numb as I collapse to the floor. Keys, where are the keys? I need them if I'm to get out of here. I crawl across to his lifeless body and search through all the pockets. Nothing. Getting up on unsteady legs I clumsily walk over to the front door but still nothing. A flickering light down the hall catches my eye and I walk towards it. His room. I empty drawers. Upturn the bed. Search through bags. Nothing. Where are the damn keys? Heading towards the kitchen I find them laid out in the center of the table. Groaning. Coming from the lounge. I fall numerous times in my pursuit to the door. Seven Keys. Three locks.
I'm not sure how it takes me but I finally manage to throw open the door and am greeted by a gust of the cool, fresh air. But I don't have enough time to take this in as I hear movement coming from the lounge again. I pick a random direction and run. To where- I'm not sure. The only thing I do notice is that we are isolated. There's no sign of civilisation anywhere. Just trees for what looks like miles.
Ignore the pain. Ignore the exhaustion.
Just keep going.
Don't stop.
Can't stop.
Too dark. Can't see.
Where am I going?
Twigs snapping behind me.
Run.
Faster. Faster.
Need to find home.
Mum, Dad, Prim, Gale.
Shouts coming from behind. Multiple shouts.
Push yourself harder. He can take you again.
My legs are numb. I need to stop. I can't stop. My head is telling me I've forgotten something. What? I keep running, it's all I can do.
I come to a stop when I reach a deserted road. Home is in Colorado. No signs anywhere. I need to get there. Dread trickles through me as I realise, I have no idea where I am.