Crazy. Sad. Poor Will

Will's POV

Three miserable weeks passed, and nothing had changed.

Sonny left most nights, and came home drunk, if he came home at all.

The only thing I had looked forward to for the past few weeks was Ryan's- homecoming. Saturday night, I crawled into bed late, on my own, and closed my eyes.

The next day, Ryan would be home, and I could leave Sonny for awhile, to do something I actually enjoyed, instead of sitting home while he was gone drinking again.

I heard the front door of the apartment open, and closed my eyes. I heard Sonny attempting to open the locked bedroom door, and ignored him.

After more than a few persistent minutes of knocking, the noise finally stopped.

A few moments later, the door opened, and Sonny walked into the bedroom with a screwdriver in his hand.

I closed my eyes, and huddled under the blankets nervously.

"Will! Why didn't you let me in?" His voice was a drunken growl, and I continued to keep up my act.

"Will, answer me when I ask you something!" He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. My eyes shot open, and instantly locked with his own. I looked onto the bed beside me, and reached for the screwdriver that he had set down.

Unfortunately, although drunk, he was quicker than me, and grabbed it before I did.

"Sonny. Calm down." I got to my feet slowly.

"Don't tell me to calm down. Come here, Will." He sat down on the bed, and pulled his shirt off.

"Not while you're drunk, Sonny. I've told you this before." I turned towards the door, attempting to look nonchalant.

He got to his feet and grabbed me before I had a chance to make a run for it. His lips connected with mine, sloppily, and I pushed him off, my instincts telling me to leave before it got any worse.

I felt his hands place themselves on my lower back, and he kissed me again. I tried to pull away again, and his fist connected with my face.

Dazed, I fell backwards onto the bed. He wasted no time and bit my neck roughly. I attempted once again to push him off and make it out the door, but this time, I felt something cut into my face.

I struggled to my feet several times, falling each time due to his arms pulling me back down. Finally, I turned to him, landed a blow on his face, and before he had a chance to regain his senses, I was out of the bedroom and in the bathroom.

I locked the door there, and sat down against it, holding the lock in place.

Unsurprisingly enough, I felt him trying to get inside. He slammed himself against the door several times after failing at picking the lock, and after about fifteen minutes of failure at that, it was silent.

When I was sure it was safe, I stood up and looked in the mirror. Until now, I had only been worried about keeping myself alive and unharmed, but now, I could feel the sting of the cut.

After examining my face, I noticed that right under my left eye was a deep cut, still trickling blood. The crimson liquid had already soaked my cheek. There was already another bruise on my other cheek, to add to the collection I already had.

As I cleaned the wound, which I had assumed was from the screwdriver, I looked at the engagement ring on my finger that Sonny had given me three years earlier.

I pulled it off, slowly, painfully, and set it on the counter. This was the first time in three years I had taken the ring off, and as of now, I had no intention of putting it back on.

I knelt down, and pulled several towels out of the cabinet below me, before laying them in the bathtub and climbing in.

I wasn't going to risk coming out anytime tonight... not after what had just happened.

I laid on my side, uncomfortably, and shut my eyes for the second time that night.

A tear made its way down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away, attempting to wipe away the many negative emotions swarming around my head with it.

Next Chapter: Dec/20. Thanks for reading