So I'm tired of just rereading this one and trying to get it perfect...don't really know if that is possible now, so I'm just going ahead and posting it. Some of you have expressed that you hate (or strongly dislike Steve) well I'm forewarning you, after this chapter you will hate him if you already don't...you're intrigued now aren't you? Hope you like it though.

I sat in the hallway sobbing into my hands for about half an hour. Why had I flipped out like that for? Joanne had told me she loved me and wasn't leaving me, but no I had to be dramatic. Why did I have to be like that for, at least towards Joanne?

I looked up from my hands and realized how much frustration I had taken out on our apartment, which was going to piss Joanne off even more, great.

Figured I should probably try to clean the mess up some. I tried to get up, but for some reason I couldn't. I was still mad, mainly at myself now, but still Joanne wasn't my favorite person. I wonder what Meems is doing; Joanne said she won't be home till late, I can't just sit here. I went to get the phone, when I realized that I first had to fix it before I could even use it.

"Hello"

"Hey Meems, it's Maureen," actually talking aloud had caused me to start crying once again.

"Maureen, what's wrong?"

"Oh, I just need to talk, you busy?"

"Well, actually I was on my way over to Mark and Eden's, he was released today and Roger wanted to go visit."

"Well, go ahead, I'll be ok," damn it.

"No, no. Eden and I were going to go out anyway, you can come with us," for once I wasn't dreading having to spend time with Eden.

"Ok, well if you really don't mind. Just come over, I'll be ready."

"Of course it's ok. We will be over in about thirty minutes. You going to be ok?"

"Oh yeah, I'll see you soon," she couldn't get here soon enough.

I hung up the phone, looked around and figured I might as well clean up; it'll make the time go by faster. I'd hadn't but got the kitchen chairs sat back up when there was a pounding at the door.

Naturally, I walked over and opened the door. Seconds later I felt large hands pressed up against my chest and I was on my ass. I looked up to see Steve entering the apartment. He looked almost possessed; there was fire in his eyes. He slammed the door shut and locked it, gazing down at me on the floor, now trying to scramble away.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest; my body was trembling in fear. My stomach was in knots, I felt as though I could almost throw up. My palms had become so sweaty that they were sliding on the hardwood floors, making it more difficult to get away.

Steve slowly, yet demandingly walked towards me. He was now standing above me; I froze, bracing myself for what was to come.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my side and then another, he was repeatedly kicking me. I had tried to assume a fetal position, in hopes of protecting myself from some of the pain he was inflicting upon me, but it wasn't working.

The pain was overwhelming my body. I had never felt pain or fear like this ever before. Tears were pouring out of my eyes. Why was this happening? A million thoughts were rolling through my mind, mainly about the immense pain I was in right now and the possibilities of what he could do next to me. He was so much bigger than I was, I was almost afraid to fight back, possibly making it worse.

He reached down, grabbed my arm and forcibly jerked me to my feet. I was already so weak that I could barely stand steady on my own.

I soon felt something warm and wet flowing down my chin. I reached up and touched my face. When I pulled my hand away I saw my own blood smeared on my hand. I looked back at him just in time to see his fist yet again coming towards my face. He made contact with my nose this time. I saw my blood flying in the air as my body collapsed to the ground.

It almost didn't hurt now; my body was becoming numb from the repeated kicks and punches. I knew that I was screaming, but I couldn't hear myself screaming. My eyes were so swollen I could barely see out of them, everything had become blurry now.

I again found myself on my feet. However, this time he didn't punch me. Instead he threw my frail body into the glass end table. It shattered as I crashed into it. I was now lying in a pile of shattered glass, defeated; random cuts from my arms and face were now seeping blood out onto the floor and glass pieces.

I was sore, tired and ready to give up when I looked over beside me on the floor and saw the one reason why I couldn't give up just yet. There was a broken frame propped up by the leg of our love seat. It was a picture of Joanne and me. We were both smiling, looking into each other's eyes, our arms wrapped around one another. Mark had taken it one day in the park; we were so happy that day. My thoughts had gone from how much pain I was in and wondering when he would stop to thinking about how Joanne was going to deal with finding my dead body lying in our apartment.

Before I could reminisce about that day too much, I felt Steve's hands around my ankles, dragging me out of the glass pile. As he drug me to a more open area of the living room, I looked behind me to see a trail of my blood staining the carpet.

When he got me to the middle of our living room, he turned me so that I was lying on my back, looking up at this so called man. He then knelt down and straddled me. I felt so crushed and not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. My tears and blood were running freely. I was preparing myself for him to begin ripping my clothes off. I couldn't do anything though, I was defenseless. My body was so bruised, cut up, sore, and tired that I couldn't muster up an ounce of fight within me. I felt as though this was the end of my life, JOANNE!

However, he didn't even attempt to remove my clothes. He raised his arm back, I braced myself, his hand stung my cheek as it came flying across my face. He curled his fists up, ready to inflict yet more pain onto my already defeated body. But for some reason he stopped after only hitting me once or twice more. He rose to his feet and went to leave me lying on our floor. However, he felt it necessary to deliver one last blow to my ribs with his foot.

He then left. He had come in, beat the living shit out of me, and left without saying a single word to me.

Joanne, where are you? Come home. I knew she wouldn't be home anytime soon though. I love you Joanne.

I blacked out then; I don't know how long I was laying there. The next thing I remember is hearing Mimi and Eden screaming.

I told you, that you'd hate him didn't I? I warned you. Please don't hate me too bad though. To quote one of my reviewers, "I'm the writer and you are the reader...it is all part of a master plan." Please review this one. And keep reading, just keep in mind that Maureen is one of my favorite characters in Rent.