Ray gave me his sick, twisted smile before crushing his icy lips against mine. I pulled back and slapped him across the face. He stumbled back, shocked, and loosened his grip on my arm. I jerked away from him, dashing to the edge and peering down. I was about to jump over the edge, but Ray grabbed me around the waist from behind and pulled me back. I struggled, twisting this way and that to try and loosen his grip, but he held on. If I wasn't so worried about Paul, I would have realized there was something very wrong about Ray. Like the fact that I was now super strong, and yet he was able to restrain me. But all I could think about was Paul. My Paul.
I hadn't realized I was crying till a sob caught in my throat. I watched the water's serface, waiting for Paul to surface. Rain started to pour from the sky, and lightning streaked through the night-time sky.
Something stuck in my arm, and I looked down to see a needle sticking into my skin. A clear liquid was being injected into me, and my eyes started to droop.
"Paul" I whispered before falling into darkness.
When I woke up and looked around the familiar room, I burst into tears. It had all been a dream. Leah, Seth, Paul. They aren't real. But they felt so real.
I stayed in the room, crying for days. On the fifth day, the door burst open and Ray burst in. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he dragged me out of the bed and against the wall, holding me in place with his hip. Pressing up close to me, his breath stunk of something bitter. His smell burned my nose, making me sneeze over and over. It was like a very sweet mint smell that made me want to gag. Probably some new cologne. I waited for him to start yelling in my face, but he seemed to blank out. His eyes roamed over my face, then they dropped down my neck to my body. I felt uncomfortable.
He released me suddenly and stormed out of the room. I caught myself on my feet and hurriedly shut the door, sliding the lock into place. I sat down on the bed.
I can't live like this anymore. I can't let some guy push me around. I need to get away from here and start supporting myself. I got up and reached between my mattress, grabbing the small stash of cash I keep down there and threw it into a backpack with my sleeping shirt and my favorite book someone at work gave me.
Trying to be as quite as I could, I slid open the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. I ducked down under the living room window and crawled against the wall. When I reached the street below, I ran as fast as I could, praying he didn't ketch me.
As I was about to exit the alley, I rammed into something as hard as a rock, and rebounded off of it. I looked up in horror at Ray. I was beat so bad, I wondered, as my eyes closed after a pretty nasty hit to the head, if I was ever going to make it out of this mess.
Over the next few weeks, I was determined to get away. And, with each failed attempts, came more bruises and broken bones.
The limp on my leg was so bad, it hurt to stand. Every inch of my body was pretty much black and purple, my left wrist was broken, my ankle, I could swear is broken, one of my ribs made it hard to breath, and my head felt as if someone forced cinder blocks through my ears and into my head.
One day, I decided I had enough. No more running away. No more abuse. No more bruises. I was going to control my own life. One way or another.
