I lie awake in bed for hours on end, until I was absolutely sure that Trace was in a deep enough sleep.
When I'm almost positive that he's asleep for good, I quietly get out of the bed that we share.
He doesn't budge.
I walk into the bathroom as quietly as possible. I look at myself in the mirror. My face is red on one side, and my eye looks like it's swollen a bit. I'm okay though. I reach under the bathroom sink where I stashed my purses full of clothes. I grab my cell phone out of the bag and call my mom. I let it ring twice, then hang up. I'm praying to God that this escape works.
I hear his easy snoring coming from the room.
If he's snoring, he's pretty deep asleep.
I'm almost worried about how easy this is gonna be. It can't possibly be this easy. In fact, I don't hear snoring coming from the room anymore. I'm nervous now. Like a deer caught in headlights.
"Demi!" he yells from our room.
Holy shit. He's awake…
"..y…Yes?" I call back.
"Where the FUCK are you?!"
"In the bathroom!" I say frantically, desperately trying to stuff my bags back under the sink and keep from crying. I stuff all my things under the sink sloppily.
"Get the fuck back in here!"
"I'm using the bathroom!"
I hear him get out the bed, so I hurry, pull down my pants and sit down on the toilet. I pray for three things. One, that he doesn't decide to look under the sink and find the bags. Two, that he sees that I'm using the bathroom and he goes back to sleep. And three, that he doesn't decide that he's horny. He's actually woken me up out of my sleep to sex on more than one occasion. I ever tell you how degrading it is to be forced to have sex with someone?
He comes in the bathroom, red faced, tired and lazy eyed.
"What are you doing?" he asks, still groggy with sleep.
"Using the bathroom…"
"No shit, Demi. Are you pissing?"
"…No." I lie. He has to think that I'm taking a crap, because then he'll leave me alone. If he knows that I'm peeing, he'll sit here and watch me.
I examine his face. He's not gonna look under the sink, and he doesn't look like he wants to have sex. He looks tired.
He makes a gruff noise and stalks back to the bedroom. I hear the creaking of the bed as he climbs back in it.
I'm crying, but not hard. They're nervous tears. Tears that pray that I don't get caught trying to make a getaway.
I pull up my pants and take my bags from beneath the sink. I sit my bags in the hallway and walk back to the bedroom. Trace is snoring once again, and I am incredibly thankful. I can hear my heart beating in my ears, and I am sweating like a pig. I slide on my shoes, quietly slip on my jacket, and grab my bags. I walk down the steps, and almost cry of happiness whenever I reach the bottom. I grab the handle of the front door. I look back at the house. I kiss the lavish things goodbye, and disarm the alarm. I slide swiftly out the front door with very…very little noise.
My mom's car is waiting on the street for me. My dad is on the porch with a gun in his hands. He holds my hand as we walk to the car. The night is calm, peaceful. Almost as if God knew that tonight was going to be the night for me to leave.
Still quiet, I walk to the car and slide in the backseat. I know it's not over. I've left Trace before. He always finds me and drags me back. I'm still nervous, but I calm myself with the knowledge that my dad has a gun with him.
"Did he wake at all?" my mom asks me immediately.
I struggle to find my voice for a moment, with the realization that I am almost safe for now. "Yes, but he went back to sleep…"
"It's gonna be alright now Demi. you're safe now…" my dad reassures me. I sure hope he's right. It's gonna take a whole lot more than breaking me from a house to make me safe from him.
But now is the truly hard part. I know that Trace isn't gonna let this go easily. My parents' house is going to be the very first place he looks for me. And I know that it won't take him long to notice that I'm gone. I expect to either see him or hear from him early tomorrow morning.
When we get to my old house, I do start crying. I can't help but cry. I feel safe, for the time being. I walk into the house and breathe in the smell of home. The house is just the way I remembered it.
"Do you want to sleep honey? Or do you want me to fix you something to eat?" my dad asks.
I'm not very hungry, so I opt to sleep. Even if I was hungry, I could make it myself. I'm eighteen years old.
I honestly want to just go upstairs, wake Madison and Dallas up and hug them until I can't hug them anymore. I know Dallas will be happy that I'm home. She tweeted me every day that I was away to let me know she loved me and missed me. Madison will probably shit bricks. Dallas told me that she asks about me a little too much. I missed my sisters so much. But it's 1:30 in the morning. They're both asleep, and they'll both be pissed off if I wake them. So I'll just surprise them in the morning.
"Sleep." I say to my dad.
"Okay honey. Your bedroom is still the way you left it. Have a nice night…" my mom says. I notice that she is trying not to look at me. I realize why, though. She doesn't want to see the part of my face that Trace slapped. She doesn't like seeing any of my flesh that is scarred or bruised from him. It makes her feel lousy.
I climb up the stairs and bank right for my room. I actually am tired. I open the door, and immediately lay in my bed. My big comfy king sized bed, with dark red and gold bedding. Surely, Trace would have noticed that I'm gone by now. I'm a little worried.
I decide that I'm too tired to worry, so I get comfortable in my bed and finally give myself to sleep.
It's the first time I didn't have to worry about being awaken to the demands of either sex or food.
I am safe, for now.
It feels good to not have to wake up and immediately cook breakfast.
I get out of my bed, sore and very stiff. I'm hurting from the sudden change of mattresses, and the fact that my body is battered, but I'm still happy and I feel refreshed.
I go to the bathroom and take a really long pee. After I finish up, I go into my sisters' rooms. They're both empty, so I don't worry about greeting them.
I go downstairs, following the smell of breakfast food. I hear Madison talking to Dallas about meaningless shit. I walk into the kitchen and rest my arms on the counter in front of them. They both gasp when they see me come into the room.
"DEMI!" Maddie yells as soon as she sees me. She gives me the best hug I've ever had in my life. I even pick her up. I have to threaten myself not to cry. Dallas kisses my cheek so many times that I might cry. Maddie kisses my other cheek.
"Guys, lighten up at bit…my cheek hurts." I use that as an excuse for them to stop, so that my tears don't fall. Dallas looks at the nasty welt on my cheek and shudders. Maddie kisses it lightly anyway.
They both stop touching me after that. I kinda wish they'd hug me again, but oh well.
"Sorry…I'm just so happy to see you, Dems." Dallas says. I think Madison is crying, because her face is so red. I kiss Maddie on her cheek and give Dallas another tight hug.
"He let you come home?" Dal asks, struggling to breathe through my tight hug.
"No, he didn't let me. I had to sneak."
"You know he's gonna come looking for you…"
"…I know. And he'll probably be here looking for me today…" I whisper.
That thought sticks with me. Trace is gonna come looking for me. I'm just not sure how early he'll be with it…
"Well daddy's gonna be home all day, so don't worry about that." My mom says as she hands me a cup of orange juice. I nod and smile just to make it seem like I believe that I'm safe, but the truth is, I'm scared shitless.
I'm very worried about what's going to happen. Trace is crazy. I'm not exactly sure how crazy he is, but I know that he is crazy. He's kicked me down steps, slammed me against walls, and threw hot water on me. And he does those things when I'm still living with him. I'm a little scared about what he'll do because I left him…
Instead of dwelling on what he'll do, I sit at a spot at the kitchen table and eat my breakfast. I surprised myself at how hungry I was. I didn't wanna worry anyone, take away the joy of my homecoming.
"Demi, we really missed you. Really…" Dallas mentions, just trying to fill the silence at the table.
"I missed you guys too. So much. Like… I wanted to call you guys so bad, you have no idea."
Maddie is crying again, and I grab a tissue to hand to her.
Madison accidentally knocks over her cup of orange juice reaching for the tissue, and it spills all on my lap and on my shirt.
"Watch what you're frickin' doing, Madison!" my dad yells at her.
I stand up, a sticky, orange mess. "It's okay, Maddie." I assure her.
"Sorry Demi…" she apologizes anyway through her tears.
I use a dishtowel to wipe off my arms and legs.
"Demi, I threw your clothes in the washer. There's a load in the dryer if you wanna go out to the laundry house and get a change." My mom says, trying to clean up the spilled mess on the table.
I nod and go outside. I'm on high alert while I'm outside. I scan around. No signs of Trace.
The laundry house is where we do our laundry. It's almost like a one room apartment. My mom made it into a laundry house because she likes to sit in there and listen to music while she folds her clothes.
I walk the very short distance to the small house and go to the dryer. I strip out of my wet pants and throw them into a basket. I look through the dryer for a suitable pair of sweatpants. My back is turned to the door when I hear it crack open. I talk myself out of a state of paranoia, and reason that it's just my mother.
"Mom, how many of my clothes did you put in…" I start to ask before I turn around and see. It's not my mom that's standing in the laundry house with me. It's him.
We both stand there silently. He's looking at me. His eyes are red and puffy. He is shirtless, body covered in tattoos. Disgusting.
I'm standing there in my crisp white underwear and orange juice soaked tank top.
He finally breaks the silence.
"You thought you were just gonna leave, Princess? You're not very smart. This is the first place you go? Not smart, Princess. Not smart." He says.
I want to scream for help, but my jaw is wired shut in a state of shock and fear. Instinctively, I cover my underwear bottoms up.
"You should just come back home with me, Princess. Save yourself the fight and come with me." He tries to convince me.
"…n…no." I manage to say. I am so vulnerable right now, and I can't yell for help..
He looks over toward the grilling things, and grabs a can of lighter fluid. He squirts it all over the ground. The smell is enough to get high off of.
"No?" he walks over to me and I shiver. I don't even attempt to move out his way. He gives me a hard kiss and bends me backward over the wash machine. He's hurting my back.
"You don't tell me no, Princess. Because you know if I can't have you, no one's gonna." He says roughly in my ear. He smuggles his hand underneath my right thigh and lifts it up so that he's between my legs. I let him go, until he almost takes down my underwear. I'm not gonna let him rape me again. I refuse. I snap myself out of delusion, and defend myself against him for the first time ever.
I push my hands on his chest and shove him with all of my might. I suck in a hard breath to yell for my dad. "Get off! MOM! DAD! HE'S HERE! DAD! THE GUN!" I scream, and Trace gets off me. He knows that my dad goes hunting and that he has a deer-gun.
"Big mistake, Princess." He says angrily. I'm sure he's gonna leave now, because he is afraid of my dad. He's always shown that he had some fear for him. But instead of him leaving, he pulls a lighter from his pocket, throws it down on the puddle of lighter fluid, sets the room ablaze, and flees through the window, blowing me a kiss before he leaves.
I hear my dad fire off three shots at him from the porch.
I try to jump out through the same window that Trace did, but I'm short and there are already flames licking at the windows. I side-step the fire and dash out the front door, completely unburned. I am breathing hard.
"IF YOU COME BACK AROUND HERE I'LL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR DAMNED BODY!" I hear my dad yell in the hoarsest voice I've ever heard him speak in.
I think I was more afraid of the fire than anything, because it wasn't that serious. My dad was able to go into the laundry house with the garden hose and put it out. My mom is standing on the porch, worried.
I'm breathing heavy, but not crying. I can't cry. My dad comes over to me and puts his hand on my back. "Are you alright?" he asks. I nod hard.
I realize now that I'm away from Trace. Getting away from him was one thing. Getting away from him was the easy part. Staying safe from him was gonna be hard. And as long as I was sitting at home, I wasn't safe. Neither was my family.
"Dad, I gotta go… I can't put you guys in danger…I have to leave…" I state my realization in a brave voice.
I know that Trace is gonna keep coming after me. I can't put my parents in danger. I can't put my sisters in danger. What if next time, he decides to set the entire house on fire? What happens then? I can't be here. And my dad knows that.
"We'll figure it out, honey…it'll all be okay." He promises.
