A/N- Well that wasn't too bad right? Now starts the events leading up to the first chapter. I hope you guys enjoy, I have had so much fun writing thus far and we are only getting started. This chapter as well as others will deal with physical and mental abuse.
"Fuck" I mumble as I walk down the hall of my shitty apartment building. I never expected life to be this way, I had hopes and dreams. I work my fingers to the bone for a crappy ten dollars an hour, working for a call center. I live in a crappy part of town with my abusive redneck boyfriend. But then I'm damaged, my soul has been broken for years, my voice is rough from the years of crying out to God to help me. Maybe this is what I deserve, after all, mommy was a crack head and daddy was an abusive alcoholic. I was taken from them when I was seven, after my mom tried to trade me for crack to an undercover cop. I bounced from foster home to foster home until I was seventeen. Some families were nice, others were just looking to collect the pay check that came with me. At seventeen I met Toby, he was sweet. Always seemed to look out for me, he seemed like what I needed. He protected me and we became the best of friends.
Oh, how I would love to tell you how we fell in love and lived happily ever after, but then I hate to lie. No, Toby and I began dating and all was well and good until one night. He wanted to take our relationship further, I told him no. We argued, he was drunk and he decided to backhand me and take what he wanted. I ran the next morning, didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to get out. I stayed away from Toby for about a week, but stupidly I took him back. He apologized, bought me flowers and things were good, for about a month. Then the beatings started, I fought back, gave him as good as he gave me. I made him bleed, broke a few bones. I swore I would never be like my mother, but here I am, just like her minus snorting crack and trying to sell a kid.
I fish in my purse and pull out my keys, I jam the key in the door and push it open. I was hoping for time to myself, but Toby was home early. He was laying on the couch, a bottle of beer hanging from his hand watching some stupid western movie. I roll my eyes as his whistles at me, he likes when I wear skirts to work. I mumble a "hey" at him as I slip off my shoes. I head to the kitchen, looking for something to make for dinner. I exhale softly as I find left over chili from last night. I grab it, toss it in the crock pot and let it heat up. I take a slow, deep calming breath, looking to unwind for the evening. Soon though I feel hot breath on my neck, arms around my waist. Instantly I want to cry. I hated his hands even on me, it made me feel dirty, used. I try not to shiver in disgust, but I fail. He sensed it, it's why he is now violently turning me around.
"What's wrong?" He inquires.
"Nothing, just had a long day. Not in the mood." I answer quietly.
"What, you fuckin' someone else? That it?" He growls.
"No, I'm not. I'm just not in the mood because I'm tired." I sigh.
"Not like you could find anyone better than me. You're used up Murphy, you belong to me cause no one else is gonna ever want you." He laughs almost mockingly.
I sigh and push him away from me. I hate him so fucking much, but he has done a good job of convincing me no one else is ever gonna want me. I'm not a model, I'm not a sexy vixen leading lady. He grabs my arm and I yelp. I throw a punch and it lands right in the side of his head. He growls and grabs a handful of my hair and drags me into the living room. I manage to break away and spit at him. I grab the first thing I can, a book, and chuck it at him. I know I'm only pissing him off more, but I am not going to just take his beatings, I never have. Who knows, maybe on some level I am so fucked up that I like this. I like the fact he is now on top of me, on the floor, throwing shots to my face as I try and block them. Maybe I like kneeing him between the legs and pushing him off me. Perhaps there is an animal inside me, that's why I am now clawing at his face. Maybe part of me enjoys the blood that is now under my nails.
We wrestle around on the floor, he punches me in the chest, I bite his arm. We are both now bloody and bruised, tears are streaking down my face as I slap him. He grabs me by my hair as he gets up. He slings me into the coffee table and kicks me for good measure. I curl up in a ball and he laughs. I know this fight is over as he calls me pathetic. Yeah I know I am. Just like those broads I call stupid on tv, I stay with him because no one else is going to want me. I hear him walking away, into the bedroom and closing the door. I lay there, bleeding onto the hunter green carpet. My body is too sore to move, my ego too bruised.
I lay there for what seems like hours. I don't hear Toby anymore, he's probably passed out in the bedroom. I finally find my way to my feet, I let out a soft hiss in pain. I drag myself to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. God, this fucking hurts. I stare at my reflection in large vanity mirror. The side of my face is bruised, my lip is busted and my nose must have been bleeding, judging by the smear of blood on my upper lip. I slowly take off the black tank top I had on, revealing bruises already forming. My abdomen littered with boot prints, my arms had hand prints on them. Fucking sexy, right? I just stare at myself, I disgust myself. I look down at my wrists, two long diagonal scars, one on each wrist. I am reminded of my moment of weakness. After Toby raped me, I tried to kill myself. Next time I would remember not to slit my wrist in a public bathroom.
Soon the tears start once more. The dam broke and I couldn't hold on anymore. I sink to my knees and cry. Cry because I feel so helpless and alone, so worthless and I want nothing more than to sink into a black abyss, never to rise again. I fall to my butt and bring my knees to my chest. I rock gently as I cry, wishing I could escape. My life has become full of nothing but pain and anger. I hate myself, I hate even looking at myself in the mirror, because the bitch looking back at me is pathetic, weak and good for nothing. I am so tired of even attempting to be strong, I want to give up. But then if I did that, it would make me a bigger coward than I already am.
Minutes pass, I compose myself. If Toby sees me crying he will only mock me. I slowly strip and turn on the shower, making the water as hot as I can stand it. I have to wash this blood away, attempt to wash away the memory of another fight, even though I know it will never happen. I hiss softly as I climb into the hot shower. For a few moments I feel peace, I can let myself escape, if even for a few moments. I bask in the glow, drink in my moment of solace.
After finishing my shower, I grab the pajama pants and tank top I left in the bathroom this morning and slip them on. I tie back my long black hair, it's almost down to my waist now. It's the only thing that makes me feel somewhat pretty. Well that and I have grown to liking my two toned eyes, left one is hazel the right one is green. For a split second I smile, but the sound of Toby grunting pulls me out of my dream like state. I sigh and walk out of the bathroom, into the darkened bedroom to see Toby passed out on his side of the bed. It would be so easy to run, but I choke those thoughts down and I walk over plopping down in bed beside him. I lay as far away from him as I can, I hate to be touched. Not just by him, but most people. I curl into a ball and close my eyes, letting sleep consume me. Maybe tonight I will dream about being loved and cherished, who knows.
Before I know it, it's 8am the next morning. I wake up and rub my head, I'm off work today. I look over to see Toby still passed out, I grumble and get up trudging into the kitchen. I go through my morning routine of flicking the coffee pot on, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge before I walk over and turn on the tv. I wasn't paying much attention, on my off days I go out to the shooting range. I hurry and get dressed not wanting to have a confrontation with Toby. I sigh softly and grab a black case from next to the couch. I flick the tv off, grab my keys and I'm out the door. Luckily, the shooting range is right around the corner. I'm so lost in my own thoughts that I don't notice how deserted the streets are, how eerie it seems. My mind is still cloudy from the fight with Toby and right now I just wanted far, far away.
Just as I approach the corner building that reads Smith's Gun Shop & Range, the front door opens and an arm yanks me inside. I yelp, but it was because the hand latched on to a fresh bruise. Before I know it I'm dragged to the back as I hear someone say "barricade the fucking door." When I'm finally let go I see I'm in the range area of the store. I see the owner John and his wife Linda, my friend Abby and her brother James and I see our friend Joshua running back from the front. I look around, still in shock. Abby pulls me into a hug and begins to cry. I hug her back and look towards John for some sort of explanation.
"Haven't you watched the news, dear?" John asked.
"Um, not really...just heard them babbling around some virus." I say as I hold on to Abby.
"I thought you were dead." Abby whispered as I now felt James and Joshua hugging me as well.
"There has been some sort of outbreak, the government is involved. It's pretty serious, we're being told to evacuate." John said.
I look around, my first thought was to get Toby, but then something happened. Something evil crossed my mind, why should I risk my life, if this was as serious as people were saying, to save that bastard? I finally let go of Abby, Joshua and Joshua before picking up my case. I sit it down on a near by table and open it revealing my two black Desert Eagle Mark XIX .357 Magnums, complete with fluted barrels. I hear a bit of laughter, it was Abby. What can I say, I like guns, but that's a topic for another day, right now I need to figure out what the fuck is going on. I look to John, he is in his mid fifties, as is his wife.
"So, what are they saying?" I ask as I sit down.
"This virus, turns people into zombies." Joshua said.
"Zombies?" I laughed.
"Yeah, Zombies. Look out back, I shot one in the head this morning." Joshua said.
"It's true. It was Bruce, the guy who ones the corner store. His face was almost torn off and without Joshua, he would of ripped my arm off." Abby whispered.
I sat and just stared, I was still lost. I went to bed and the world hadn't ended and now I am being told there are zombies trying to rip people's arms off. I sigh and reach out to grab Abby's hand. I see the fear in her eyes, she's trembling a bit. I'm becoming a bit scared to, nothing scares Abby and now here she is on the verge of tears. There must be some serious shit going on outside the doors, this was a lot to process.
"I...so um...what are we going to do?" I ask.
"Only thing we can do, load up and move out. We can't last long around here." Linda answered.
Before I could speak John stepped up and took control of the situation. He looks at me and nods, he was like a father to me, so I wasn't going to question him.
"Alright guys, grab bags, load up the ammo in the back. Linda, James and I will grab the weapons. We can take the truck out back. We need to be out in ten minutes." John said.
I began to follow Joshua and Abby, without question. Sure, I was lost as hell, but I knew I had to go along with everyone else. I was going to survive what ever the fuck this was. I thought about Toby one last time as I stick my Desert Eagles in the waist of my jean shorts. I follow the others to the back with my gun case, prepared to cram it full of ammo.
It's funny, it only took the end of the world as we know it to get away from Toby.
A/N- Well? What do you think? I am quite happy with this chapter. I know it's a bit sketchy, but I promise more will be explained as we go on. Stay with me. I promise more exciting stuff to come.