The past can tie you down.
IV.
Ann's Point of View
I was just heading out, opened the door and saw Ben on the doorstep. "Oh, Ben. Um, hi… Something wrong? Where's Bailey? Is she okay?" I was halfway to panic mode when the expression on his face shut me up. I could tell he was drunk. I waited for him to say something. Instead, he looked at me from head to toes. I was dressed for the show and despite the alcohol, he noticed.
"You're going to see him," he said more to himself than to me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was angry. "Well, yeah, I am. Don't get all pissed, Ben, because it's none of your business. I'm not your wife anymore." The next second, he had me pushed against a wall, his hands at my neck, pressing too tightly, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I never could when he got like this. "Now you listen to me, 'ya slut. You're not goin' anywhere, especially not with that bastard…" Tears were flooding my face and his grip loosened just a bit, enough for me to speak, but I couldn't. I tried to push him away, but I wasn't strong enough. When he noticed my attempts, he tightened his grip on my neck and I could barely breathe. "So you think you're tough, huh? 'Ya think you could fight me off? C'mon, try. Gimme your best shot, bitch." He put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't make a sound. As if I could anyway. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut me a few times. Only then I screamed, but even I could hardly hear myself because of his hand. I was helpless. He must've hit me a few more times, but the last thing I remember was landing on broken glass.
I woke up on the floor, with a very blurry memory of it all. At first I felt nothing. I tried to get up, but in the same second I landed back on the ground with teary eyes. A sharp strike of pain went through my whole body and the memory became all too clear. I let it happen. Again. I couldn't stop him. Just like so many times before, when we were still married. When he'd get drunk off his ass and do this. I always let him apologize his way out of it, even though I knew he'd do it again. Until one day, three years ago, when I had enough. I thought it would stop and it did. Nothing happened until today. I thought it was okay. I thought he stopped. I thought it wouldn't happen anymore. The tears combined with the pain made it hard to think.
I don't know how much time I just laid on the ground like that. When I finally found the strength to get up and beat the pain, it was eleven thirty in the evening. I dragged myself to the chair and crashed on it. After another flood of tears, I looked around the apartment. It was a mess. The coffee table was broken from my landing and everything else seemed out of place as well. I just sat there. What else could I do?
I heard a knock on the door after a while. I thought I was just hearing things at first, but by the fourth knock I knew it was real. "Annie?" a known voice called my name. It was almost too familiar. I knew who it was. What I didn't know was, should I answer or not. He'd only freak out. I know he wouldn't judge me, because he never did that. But he wouldn't understand neither. He couldn't understand. "It's open," I decited respond with what was left of my voice. The door cracked open in a second. Then there was silence. A torturing silence that none of us wanted, but we couldn't find words to fill it up with. He dropped to his knees in front of me. Then he flooded me with questions. "Annie? Are you okay? What the hell happened? What's wrong?" he asked in a tone full of worry. I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even look at him. He put his hand on my knee and it was warm. I still felt. I was still alive. "Look at me," he said, trying to get a look at my face. He put two fingers under my chin and lifted my head up, just like he used to do. There are no words to describe the look he had on his face. He put his finger to my face and it hurt just a bit. A bruise must have been there. "What…Why…Who did this?" he hardly spoke in shock. I was beaten by tears once again. I buried my face in his chest and he just held me for a while. I needed to cry this out. After he told me it was going to be okay for the fifth millionth time, I explained everything to him, with only a few breakdowns in between. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," he muttered, but I heard him. "You have to… Go see a doctor or something." I looked in his eyes for the first time this evening. "Beej…Thank you," I whispered and he held me in another comforting hug as tears came running from my eyes once again.