Chapter 3

The years went by, being stuck in the same endless cycle with Robert as I had been four years ago. I still lived with him, and I still loved him. Yet it was unrequited, as the hints I made continuously failed to be acknowledged by him. I would result to watching him do his daily tasks with longing. I wanted to be a real part of his life. Not the 'bit-on-the-side', the girl he just housed and was nothing more. I hoped I was at least a 'good friend' to him. He was definitely that to me.

He now had a job too working in the local factory, and I would stay at home and do the housework. So we felt like an actual couple, though it was frowned upon by everyone in town. I tried hard not to be seen out. Well, I tried hard to go out into town as little as possible, frightened I would see either my parents or Kate. I had become rather a social recluse, which was probably why I depended on Robert so much. He seemed to depend on me too, though, otherwise the housework would never get done and his house would be a mess, and he would probably be extremely lonely without me. I hoped he would be anyway, and that he appreciated my company.

But everything changed. I misread the signs, and it all turned disastrous.

That night we were sat in the main room, and we were sitting on the sofa we had managed to grab a couple of years ago from a dumping ground. We didn't have much money, and sofas were a privilege in a house, which meant expensive. I was leaning against him and he was resting is arm around me, both of us reading our books. This was usual routine, but something felt different tonight. It was quite tense, and I hoped it might be because he had begun to realise his feelings for me.

"Robert, is everything alright?" I asked, my heart thumping in my chest, praying my thoughts were correct.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he answered, not quite meeting my eyes as he did so.

"I don't know you just seem tense."

He looked at me, straight into my eyes. I was really nervous now. Was he going to kiss me? My mind was saying kiss me, kiss me.

"I am" he mumbled, his gaze measuring my face and returning to my eyes.

That was all it took, that and his intense gaze into my eyes confirmed it for me. Without hesitation, I leant forward and pressed my lips against his softly. He slapped me round the face and jumped back, falling off the sofa.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"I..." I started, holding a hand up to my face where he hit me as it throbbed with the sting of the blow.

"What is wrong with you? I was going to tell you that I was tense because I lost my job! What...why?"

I wanted to floor to swallow me up. I could have died of embarrassment. He wasn't going to kiss me at all! I couldn't believe this. He had looked so intensely into my eyes it seemed like he really wanted me to kiss him.

"I...I just thought, you know, you wanted...wanted me to" I managed to mumble. He huffed.

"You always take things the wrong way Victoria"he spat. I flinched back. I had seen this anger before. His face swam as my eyes started to fill with tears, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw my mother's face.

"I'm sorry Robert!" I explained "I just...I just-"

"You just what? Love me?" he snorted. I looked down in embarrassment and a cruel laugh shot through his lips. "Oh goodness you do don't you? How could you think a respectable man like me, someone of my age would love you? Or want you to kiss them? You're nothing but a washed up rat from the streets who I agreed to house!" That stung. So I was his bit on the side then. The girl he housed. Nothing more. I couldn't believe he had called me a rat.

"But...but what about all those times, sitting on the sofa...and walks in the woods?" I remembered these intimate times in detail. The feel of his hand in mine, his breath on my neck as I lay against him, his hand running through my hair.

He smirked and shook his head. "That was just comforting you! I never meant anything by it" he wiped his mouth with his hand dramatically as if I had given him some sort of disease and I watched in dismay. "You are nothing but a child. I could never love you."

A pang sprung across my chest. I felt like someone had just ripped my heart out and spat on it. His words hurt so much. I felt a tear falling down my face, and it all started coming in a rush. I couldn't help it. There was no other way I could cope with my feelings. He tutted in annoyance as he watched me.

"Oh that's right. Turn on the waterworks!" he shook his head, "Don't think that silliness will work on me. I have no sympathy whatsoever. How could you kiss me? I am much too old for someone like you."

"Crying" he scoffed as I slumped onto the floor, off the sofa. And he kicked me with his foot in annoyance.

"Please...please don't Robert, you know what happened with my parents." I begged. He laughed again and looked at me with fury. It seemed like he was venting all of his frustrations into this. Just like it had happened before- just like with my parents. He kicked me again.

"Oh I'm sorry, do you not like that?" he snarled, "You have had it done before, it can't hurt, right?" He smirked and picked me up by the scruff of my dress, slamming me against a wall, the hurt shooting through my back as I screamed in shock and pain.

"Scream away" he whispered harshly into my ear, "no one can hear you. Oh wait, are you going to take my whispering in your ear the wrong way? Think I am trying to kiss you?" he jeered. I couldn't believe this was happening again. Flashbacks kept wiping across my vision from those four years ago, by someone else I loved. I started sobbing in distress.

"Please stop Robert" I whispered, nearly inaudible. But he heard and he cackled.

"Why should I? I've lost my job which means I might lose my house, what else have I got to lose? I don't mind losing you. Not now." He threw me down with force onto the hard oak flooring as my arm twisted underneath me and snapped loudly. I shrieked in agony as I felt the arm disconnect from the rest of my body. Robert stomped over to where I was, crushing blows hitting me one after the other on numerous parts of my body. I started to drag myself by my one arm over to the door. But I wasn't going to make it. I couldn't escape this time.

I felt another sickening blow on my head as he picked me up and smashed me to the floor in an attempt to stop me leaving. Not that I could anyway. I felt like someone had cracked an egg over my head and it was running down my hair. It was blood. My blood. It ran down and through my hair in a gush. But I didn't care anymore. What else could I lose? He could kill me for all I cared. Violence and death wishes for me seemed to follow me wherever I went, first both my parents and now Robert. Who else would want to kill me, beat me until I was nothing but a lifeless corpse lying in a puddle of my own blood on the ground? But I wouldn't find out. I had attempted to escape at first, dragging myself to the door, but I wasn't sure I cared anymore. If violence was all my life was to be then was it really worth living?

I thought back through the nineteen years of my life with despair. How did something always go wrong? Why? I had never done anything wrong; I always thought of others, tried to help and support them, and always brought kindness with me to whoever I interacted with. Maybe that was what I was doing wrong. Maybe I should just be bad, put on a mask everyday of defiance and restriction and I would be okay? I thought again through the things that had gone wrong in my life, and about how if I had worn a mask of defence they either probably wouldn't have happened or I wouldn't have been so emotionally affected by them. Everyone said expressing emotions was a good skill to have, but I no longer believed them. It was a terrible thing to possess. No longer would I wear my heart on my sleeve. No longer would I be affected by people's actions and feelings towards me, and no longer would I care. I would be the most unemotional person out there if I had to, and I would survive this time.

I came back to earth as the thoughts still swirled in my head, my body which had felt on fire becoming numb as my thoughts gave me strength to endure the pain and survive it. I looked at Robert, anger and hatred etched on his face and wondered how I could ever have loved him.

I managed to pull myself into a seating position, and quickly swung my eyes round to look for a distraction which would enable me to escape. Acting impulsively, I swung the chair my leg was hooked around into Robert and made a break for it. I heaved myself up and staggered for the front door as I heard him jump over the chair and tramp forwards after me. Swinging the door open, I jumped down the stairs as fast as I could, but I tripped over my feet from the speed as I reached the middle, and ended up plummeting down the stairs in a roll, hitting each step in turn as I descended. The old Victoria would have thought to herself she couldn't make it, but the new one thought differently. She would make it out of there.

With new pain pinching my body, I wrenched open the main door and ran out into the dark street, no longer caring about the murderers and dark world beyond. The fall had slowed me down, and I could now hear Robert who had caught up and was now only a few feet behind me. Panting, I urged myself on and ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I delved through homeless families sleeping on the street, and swung hastily into alleyways in a hope of deterring Robert. Finally, I reached the forest. Before, I would have stopped, rather wanting to face a broken body than dangerous psychotic murderers and other forms of fearless beasts in the forest. But I didn't stop this time. I continued on, my bare feet clapping against the rock hard forest floor, and crunching against the frozen fallen leaves. I heard cracking as I stomped on sticks and other forms of woodland materials. I could feel the thorns and sharp edges of twigs stab themselves into my feet, but I no longer cared. I could feel my dead, broken arm swinging itself freely, each swing jolting a new piercing of pain into me, but I no longer cared.

This felt like de ja vu, but better, because I no longer cried with sadness and regret for those who had hurt me. No, now I felt liberated and joyful that I had escaped yet again. That I was rid of those who didn't care for me and that I had found myself. I was no longer to be the frail, weak and kind girl, but a strong, uncaring and fearless woman. As I reached the centre of the forest, I realised I could no longer hear footsteps behind me, and I stopped by a tree, trying to catch my breath.

With a sudden thrill of survival, I let out a relieved laugh into the cold night air, my breath leaving a swirling cloud in front of me as it left my mouth. I wasn't concerned that I had nowhere to go. I was Victoria. I could survive anything.