Breaking Free

Trigger Warning: This story contains scenes of domestic violence, and physical and emotional abuse. The main character was in an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend, who hurt her both physically and mentally. The story also depicts the main character's struggle to escape from the abuse and find love and healing with another person. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution. If you are experiencing domestic violence or need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit their website. You are not alone, and you deserve to be safe and happy.

Chapter 5

BELLA

I stared at Edward's last text message. One sentence stood out from all the rest.

"What time do you get off?"

Gulping nervously, I glanced at my bandaged leg. It was throbbing with pain from the knife wound that Chris had inflicted on me tonight. Blood stained the white gauze that wrapped tightly around my thigh. I never knew he was capable of such sadistic behavior. He had seemed charming and generous when we first met, but as soon as I graduated, he became violent and possessive. I thought that making him dinner would show him I cared, but he was displeased with the meal I had made. He hadn't even tried the lasagna.

I sighed, looking out my bedroom window. Raindrops pelted against the panes and taxis blared their horns in the traffic. It was as if the weather mirrored what I was feeling. Regret stabbed my heart as I thought of Edward. How I wished he had been the one sitting across from me at the dinner table, instead of Chris. Edward would have eaten it and appreciated my effort.

I released a long breath, setting my phone down on the nightstand. I settled into bed, but sleep eluded me. Maybe tomorrow I will respond to Edward's question. I wanted to reconnect with him, but I was scared of what he would say about the situation I was in with Chris.

As I stared at the ceiling, I ran through how the conversation might go - a conversation that could change my life forever.

"What are you doing with that jerk?" he would ask me. "You deserve better than him."

"I know," I would say. "But I don't know how to leave him."

"You need to leave him," he would say. "He's dangerous and he's hurting you."

"I know," I would say again. "But I'm afraid of what he'll do if I try."

He would sigh and hug me tight. He would tell me that he loved me and that he would protect me. He would help me get out of this nightmare.

But would he? Could he? Did he still love me?

I lay there in the dark. The only light came from the faint glow of my clock radio, mocking me with its ticking. My mind raced, searching for a way out. How could I muster up the courage to leave Chris? We had only been together for seven months and yet he clamped onto me like a steel trap. He was manipulative, abusive, and had a knack for making me feel worthless and small.

I imagined how a breakup with Chris would go.

"Chris, I'm sorry I have to say this, but I don't want to see you ever again."

He would stalk toward me, wrapped his hands around my throat, and squeeze.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as a surge of shame washed over me. I knew I had to break up with him, but he always charmed me into staying with his sweet words and empty promises. He never changed. And what's worse, I don't love Chris. I loved Edward – and I have since ninth grade.

~~~ BF ~~~

I groaned as the alarm clock buzzed, jolting me awake. I reached for the snooze button, but stopped when I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I looked down and saw the bandage soaked with blood. I remembered what Chris had done to me last night. He had stabbed me with a kitchen knife, just because I had been smiling when he arrived at my apartment. I hated him. And I hated myself for staying with him.

I forced myself to get out of bed, ignoring the throbbing in my thigh. I needed to get ready for work. I couldn't afford to lose my job at Creative Spaces. It was the only thing that gave me some joy in my life. Well, maybe reconnecting with Edward would bring more happiness to me. He had texted me last night, asking me what time I got off. I hadn't replied yet. I wanted to see him again, but I was afraid of what he would think of me. He was best friend. I couldn't let him see me like this.

I limped to the bathroom, leaning on the wall for support. I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. I peeled off the bandage and tossed it in the trash. I gasped as I saw the wound. It was deep and ugly, and it looked infected. I probably needed stitches, but I couldn't go to the hospital. They would ask too many questions, and I didn't have any answers. Or rather, I didn't have any good answers. I stepped into the shower and let the water wash over me. It felt like needles on my skin. I cried out in pain and clutched my leg. Tears mixed with the water as I sobbed. I felt like I was drowning in my own misery. I wished I could wash away all the hurt and fear and shame. But I knew I couldn't. I was stuck in this hell.

~~~ BF ~~~

"Are you alright, Bella?" Carleen, my boss, asked. She had walked into the breakroom for her afternoon coffee and found me leaning against the counter.

"Headache," I lied. It was easier than telling the truth. I avoided her gaze and fiddled with a tea bag. I felt a knot in my stomach as I lied to her. She was a good boss and a kind person. She would understand and try to help me if she knew what was really going on. But I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone.

She narrowed her eyes at me, then looked down at my left leg. "Are you sure it's not more than a headache? It looks like your leg is bleeding."

I followed her gaze and felt a surge of panic. A crimson spot was spreading on my white pants like a stain on a canvas.

Shit, I thought. Why had I worn white today of all days?

"I must have pulled a stitch. I broke a bowl and had to go get stitches last night." I hoped she would buy my story. I hated lying to her, but I had no choice. I forced a smile and tried to sound casual. "It's nothing serious, really. Just a clumsy accident."

She looked at me with concern and suspicion. She didn't seem to believe me. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

"I'm fine, really. I just need some aspirin and tea. I'll be back to work in a few minutes." I grabbed my cup and headed to the door. I didn't want to stay and answer any more questions. I felt guilty and nervous as I lied to her. I wondered if she would find out the truth someday. And if she did, what would she think of me?

I dashed out of the breakroom and headed to my office. I rummaged through my desk and found the spare pair of pants I kept for emergencies. I snatched the first aid supplies from my purse and made a beeline for the ladies room. I hoped no one would notice the blood seeping through my white pants or the fear in my eyes.

I peeled off the bandage I had put on this morning with trembling fingers. The skin around the wound was inflamed and hot to the touch. As I had feared infection was setting in, but I tried to push that thought away. I washed the wound with soap and water, wincing as it burned. I applied some more cream and covered it with a non-stick pad. I taped it down securely, hoping it would heal soon.

~~~ BF ~~~

Two co-workers asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner as I was leaving. Their offer was far better than going straight home.

"Yes," I agreed. "Where are we going?"

"The Splintered Wand," Angie suggested.

I hadn't been to The Splintered Wand in a while. I was excited to see what new magic tricks was being performed, and maybe even buy a new wand. Anything was better than waiting to see if Chris called or came over. Not that anyone knew my troubles with Chris.

As we approached the Flatiron Building, I smelled the aroma of roasted chicken and heard the laughter of happy customers. The building looked old and mysterious.

Entering, we found ourselves in a bookstore. We walked toward the back of the store, where a large bookshelf stood against the wall. It looked like any other bookshelf, full of books of different genres and sizes. But there was a secret behind it. Angie reached for a book titled "The Magic of Illusions" and pulled it out. The bookshelf swung open, revealing a hidden door. She smiled and gestured for us to follow her. "Welcome to The Splintered Wand," she said. "A magical experience awaits you."

~~~ BF ~~~

The night was supposed to be simple. Dinner and drinks with my friends, a quick cab ride home, and a cozy bed waiting for me. But as I fumbled with my keys in the dark, I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Maybe I left the window open. Maybe the heater broke down. Maybe it's just my imagination. I thought, trying to calm myself.

I pushed open the door and stumbled into the living room, dropping my belongings on the floor. The apartment was silent, except for a faint moaning sound coming from my bedroom. I felt a surge of dread as I tiptoed toward the source of the noise, hoping against hope that it was just a bad dream.

But it wasn't.

There he was, Chris, the man I was dating. He was in my bed, naked and sweaty, with another woman wrapped around him like a snake. They didn't even notice me as I stood there, frozen in shock and disbelief.

"You bastard!" I finally said when what I really wanted to do was scream, cry, and run away. But instead, I found myself speaking again in a calm, cold voice.

"Chris," I said, making him look up at me. "You have exactly five seconds to get out of my bed and out of my life. And take your whore with you."

He scrambled out of the bed, grabbing his clothes and throwing them on. He didn't say anything, he didn't apologize, he didn't beg for forgiveness. He glared at me with a look of pure hatred as he stalked toward me.

"Bella," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You don't get to decide when we're over. I do."

And then he did something that I never expected. Something that I never thought he was capable of. Something that changed everything.

He hit me.

He hit me hard, right in the face, sending me flying backwards and crashing to the floor. I felt a sharp pain in my jaw, followed by a warm trickle of blood from my nose. My vision blurred and my ears rang as I lay there, stunned and helpless.

He hit me. But that was only the beginning of his cruelty. He delivered a brutal kick to my stomach, making me gasp for air. I felt a surge of nausea as bile rose in my throat. Then he aimed another one at my right leg, sending a jolt of pain through it. I heard a loud thud as my leg hit the floor, followed by a dull ache that spread through my muscles. He walked out of the bedroom door without a glance, leaving me alone in the dark. I smelled his cologne fading away, the same one he used to wear when he kissed me. The scent made me sick to my stomach, reminding me of his lies and betrayal.

I tried to get up and fell back to the floor, losing consciousness.