Chapter VII:

Warning: This chapter contains domestic violence and abuse.

i'd rather regret the things i've done than regret the things i haven't done.

Taking midnight walks, for Percy, was cathartic. It was a necessity, a way to escape from the constant stresses of everyday life. By nature, he was a nocturnal, always had been and forever would be. It was two in the morning, and freezing cold outside, but that only added to the serene scene. There was no moon or stars in the sky. The bright lights of the nearby city casted an ominous glow that cut through the dense fog. It was perfect.

Silently he walked along the weathered concrete, taking the same route that he did every night. He had been doing this for years now, a habit that he had picked up when his ex-stepfather used to abuse his mother. A wisp of smoke trailed upwards from the half-burned cigarette that rolled around in the palm of his hand. He was halfway through the longest stretch of road when he heard yelling up ahead.

Percy paused and listened intently, the low visibility clouded their identity as well as his own. He couldn't make out any specifics of the argument, but he did hear the telltale sign of a slammed door.

He didn't know what to do when the heartbreaking image of a crying girl curled up on the side of the road came into view.

Even in the dim light, she was strikingly beautiful. The woman had smooth chocolate skin that was accented by curly strands of golden blonde hair.

Percy immediately realized that he was blatantly violating a clearly private situation, and jogged to the other side of the road. He tried to block out the noise of the tearful sobs as he disappeared back into the smoky clouds.

He came back the very next night, at the same exact time, and saw the same exact situation unfold. The yelling. The slamming of the door. The crying.

Once again, he approached quietly and saw the girl up close. This time, however, there was a noticeable large bruise mark on her bare shoulder that he could see from a couple feet away. But, Percy chose to distance himself by crossing to the other side. This wasn't his business. He didn't want to get involved.

He was back again, and for the third time he heard the yelling, slamming, and crying. The gloomy smog still shielded his presence from her, but her eyes weren't open anyways. She wore even more marks now, dark ones were strewn across her neck in a violent patter. Yet, Percy didn't interfere. He didn't know how.

She wasn't there on the fourth night. Or the fifth. Or the sixth.

Percy continued to walk the same route, at the same time, every night.

He never saw her again.

-Ω-

"Get. Out." The man she loved ordered as he shoved her towards the door. "Now!"

"Please." Hazel pleaded. "What happened to you? You were never like this before!"

Hazel could only close her eyes as she was picked up and tossed outside like a child's forgotten toy doll. She rolled across the pavement and came to a stop on the old crusty sidewalk. She couldn't feel anything. As soon as the door slammed, the tears began to flow. She didn't know what she had done wrong. All she knew was that her heart was slowly breaking. But she would stay by him. She would try again tomorrow. She loved him. And he loved her. Everything would be ok.

"Why are you back?" The man she tried to love asked as he once again pushed her out of the house. "I told you to leave!"

Hazel stopped them just before the door and held her ground. "You have no good reasons! Why are you doing this!"

The man growled and sucker punched her right across her shoulder. Hazel yelped in pain as he opened the door and kicked her back into the frigid night. She didn't even try to move. She would try again tomorrow. She wanted to love him. Everything would be ok.

Hazel couldn't breath. The man she once loved had her pinned against the wooden door with a vice grip around her neck. Her feet couldn't touch the ground.

"Never! Come! Back!" The man yelled into her face as he finally let go and shoved her out the door for a third time, slamming it shut.

Hazel tried to stem the flowing tears as she caught her breath. For some reason, she caught the faint hit of a cigarette, but when she turned, she saw nobody standing nearby. She would try again tomorrow. Everything would be ok.

It wasn't ok.

Author's Note:

Writing these type of story is always tough, which is why they always end up short. Take care of yourself and the people around you, and be aware of the situation. Peace and love.

Disclaimer: Quote by Lucille Ball.